A Singular Honour
by Shemyaza1
Summary: Whilst on an army training exercise in the Mendip Hills a party of soldiers discover that there is something very nasty deep in the forest and ultimately embark on a mission. Set during the War of Wrath. MEFA 2010 Nominee
1. Default Chapter

**Chapter 1 – A Singular Honour **

**Somewhere in the woods deep in the Mendips, England, 2007**

A forest is seldom silent. It may appear to uneducated ears that there is no noise, but if one were to sit or stand quietly in the midst of the trees, one would hear all sorts of activity. Not least from the trees themselves. Not that there are ears to hear or understand their speech in this modern age.

A rustle in the undergrowth could mean some small animal like a squirrel or mouse was foraging for food, or perhaps running from some predator. Or it could just be a rotting branch finally falling from one of the trees after a heavy storm or the rustling of the leaves in the wind.

Then again it could also be the sounds of clumsy human movement through the vegetation.

She cocked an ear towards a loud rustling noise somewhere off to her left and sighed. One of the lads playing some joke or something no doubt. Well she wasn't going to play their pathetic little hide and go seek games; she was going to sort her feet out if it killed her. With that in mind she took her Kevlar helmet off, laid it down on the ground and unslung the SA80, carefully propping it up against one of the trees.

A random thought popped into her head from somewhere to the effect that if it was a real war, she'd have to keep going, blisters notwithstanding, but she squashed it ruthlessly. This wasn't a real war; this was a training exercise on a Fieldcraft course. Somewhere not so far away behind these trees there was a pub and a warm bed with blankets. Tears of longing sprang into her eyes. There would be pub grub, a brandy and coke and a warm bed, so near and yet so far away.

Doing this course had not been the best idea her unit Training Officer, Major Bradley, had ever had in his life. Of course at the time he had been frustrated by the ambiguous nature of the orders that had come down from Divisional HQ with regard to Field Training of female Senior NCOs.

**A week earlier in ****Royal Regiment of Fusiliers ****Company HQ office, England 2007**

"I can't believe they're suggesting this." Bradley dragged an irritated hand through his already very short hair. "They absolutely know that we are stretched to our limit what with half of the unit gone to serve in Iraq, and now they want to deplete us of the rest? What the devil do they think that training the women in Fieldcraft is going to do? The next thing we know they'll be sending them over as battle casualty replacements."

Warrant Officer 2nd Class Knowles, the unit's Chief Clerk glanced up from the mound of Part Two Orders on his desk. "There are a fair few women over there now anyway." He said evenly. "I don't suppose it'll hurt to get our lot trained."

Bradley swung around abruptly and stared at him. A slow smile spread across his face. "Really Chief? Well in that case perhaps you would care to nominate one of your own orderly room staff for this singular training honour. Whoever it is will get a promotion out of it. That's if they're up to snuff." His tone suggested that he rather doubted the ability of any of the deskbound military clerks to cut it when it came to real soldierly activities.

Knowles returned the smile with a bland one of his own. "As it happens Sir, I have just the person. Sergeant Freeman?" He got up from the desk and stuck his head around the door into the back office where his clerks worked.

A fair-haired woman in her thirties glanced up from where she had been frowning horrifically at the computer screen. "Yes Chief?"

He beckoned. "I have a task for you Sergeant. The honour of the unit Orderly Room is at stake here. Not to mention mine."

Kim Freeman gave something between a groan and a sigh. Whatever this was, it did not sound like a good thing. However one simply didn't just turn around to one's boss and say that one didn't want to do something.

At least one didn't if one was a professional soldier in the modern British Army.

ooOoo

And now here she was. Stranded in some dark forest with a personal ration pack Menu C, her personal weapon and a pair of feet that felt as though they had turned entirely into two giant blisters.

"Thank you _very _much Chief." She snarled as she slid down into a sitting position on the damp forest floor and unlaced one of her combat boots. Somewhere, way off in another part of the forest, she could hear sounds of frantic activity. That would be her training group busily preparing to make camp before the night exercise started. Once she'd sorted her feet out she would join them in digging the six-foot slit trenches demanded by the obviously insane and irrational Staff Instructors on the Fieldcraft course. Oh the joys of being a modern soldier.

"Why the fuck they have to be six feet deep when I'm only five foot four is anyone's guess." She grumbled and then winced. In the act of peeling her sock away from the blister, she had also peeled away what felt like the top four layers of skin as well. "Damn, _that_ fucking stings like hell."

It wasn't a pretty sight. Eight miles of double marching up and down the Mendip hills in full kit with her weapon and a full backpack had taken its toll on her feet. In fact it had taken its toll on just about every other part of her as well. She had bruises on her bruises and aches in places she didn't even know she had.

To add insult to injury they had been made to do their annual personal weapons test straight after the forced march, in her case with a weapon that was not her own and then they had done four miles of section attacks through the rough moor land. It wasn't until the Instructors had screamed at them to "Get down, get down, get down!" because the trainees were supposedly under attack from enemy forces, that they very magnanimously warned the troops that there were potentially poisonous adders in the grass. This information was accompanied by snickers ill hidden behind hands.

Was getting up to Staff Sergeant worth all of this torture? Well the answer had to be yes, because Staff Sergeants didn't usually get lemoned with horrible courses like this. As a Staff Sergeant she would be posted out of her current unit and hopefully somewhere where she could have a cushy life. Ministry of Defence Main Building in Whitehall sounded like a bloody wonderful option. There were bars and restaurants, theatres and cinemas, food, wonderful food.

Her stomach rumbled painfully and her heel stung like the blazes as she carefully cleaned it as best she could with an antiseptic wipe from the small First Aid kit in her webbing. Why on earth did she have to think about food when she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the promise of a half heated up chicken curry and the delights of digging trenches facing her?

Peering through the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of her bun, Kim carefully applied one of the thick large plasters over a wad of lint and hoped that this would provide some barrier between the raw, bleeding flesh and the heel of her boot, then she methodically started on the other one.

Once she had sorted them out and put her boots back on she stood up very carefully and took an experimental step. Yep, that felt okay, at least it would hold out until the end of the night exercise anyway. She undid the wayward bun and put the hairgrips into her webbing. It was time to get business-like. There was no place for neat and tidy barrack dress hairstyles in this dank earthy forest of rustles and whispers; this was a no-nonsense hair situation. She scooped up her now lank, sweaty hair and twisted it through the elastic into a rough ponytail, jammed the helmet back on her head and picked up her weapon.

It was time to get back to the war.

She had only been walking a short distance along the rapidly narrowing pine needle strewn path when it suddenly opened out to a small clearing, in the middle of which was the blackened remains of a small fire. _Hikers._ She thought. _Probably stopped for a quick barbecue. _Her stomach instantly reacted to the word barbecue with a groaning rumble, however growing, gnawing hunger was not the only dilemma she was faced with in the clearing.

The path certainly continued on from there, but to her dismay, she now had to make a choice. Not one, but two paths led from the opposite side of the clearing. They both seemed to go the same way at first but because the bracken had partially grown over them, it was impossible to see whether either diverted in a different direction without actually walking down them first.

"Bollocks." Kim stopped and wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of dirt down one cheek.

She put her head on one side and tried to ascertain which direction the earlier noises had come from, but all was now very quiet. A little too quiet. She frowned. The sudden silence didn't make sense, unless of course the group had been called to stand to in the middle of making camp. She strained to listen for something – anything - and was rewarded by the distant sound of water chuckling merrily away to itself as it splashed over stones somewhere off to her right.

It obviously wasn't that direction then, the group were hardly going to make camp in the middle of a stream. It stood to reason then that if she took the left-hand path she was bound to hit the camp at some stage.

Of course the sound of running water had now awoken yet another bodily urge in her, just as urgent as hunger but one she couldn't ignore. She needed to pee. Badly.

Seeing to the call of nature when dressed in full combat clothing was fraught with difficulties. Once she had found a convenient bush behind which to do the deed, she then discovered that pulling down trousers that were firmly tucked into high laced up boots and squatting to pee meant a balancing act worthy of Cirque de Soleil. She finally solved the problem by grabbing hold of a solid looking branch and holding on for grim death while the contents of her bladder splattered out over the soil, her boots and part of her trousers.

Once she had finished, she stood up and rummaged for a tissue in her pockets and hoped to god that the combat jacket covered her bare arse. "Oh for fuck's sake Kim don't be an idiot. Who in hell's name would be out here in the middle of a forest peeping at you peeing, you silly bint?"

Of course there was no coherent answer and all she could do was hope against hope that her erstwhile training companions weren't hiding behind nearby bushes sniggering at her situation. She dried herself as best she could and pulled up the trousers, but as she did so, she spotted the gleam of something metallic half hidden in the thick cushion of pine needles beside the bush she had used as the toilet.

"It's nothing. Probably a coke can or something." She said to herself.

But somehow it looked different from a discarded soft drink can. She reached out and tentatively poked through the tangled lower branches of the bush until her hand touched the half concealed object. As she had thought, it wasn't a coke can. The metal felt slightly warm for some reason and although it had sunk somewhat into the soft earth beneath the needles, she managed to feel around it and discovered that it was spherical, solid and a few inches long at least. Her quest to rejoin the other trainees momentarily overtaken by sheer curiosity, she hunkered down and started to loosen the object from the earth.

She had only been digging a few seconds when a burst of raucous laughter and some shouting suddenly split the moody silence that had spread around the forest and her head reared up at the sound. There was a discordant note in the laughter that she didn't recognise as coming from any of her companions and the shouting sounded more than a little panicked. The snapping noises of breaking branches and carelessly trampled bracken heralded someone hurtling through the bushes and it made her pick up her weapon and stand up abruptly.

The figure covered in blood scrambling through the thick bracken towards her was barely recognisable as one of her instructors and as he hurtled closer, she became aware that he wasn't alone. Someone was following him, or more accurately chasing him, although they hadn't yet come into sight. The instructor's gaze was wild and filled with terror, but he was focussed enough to recognise Kim's frozen figure directly in front of him.

She reached a hand out to help him as he got to her, but to her astonishment and bewilderment, instead of grasping onto it, he grabbed her by her shoulder and virtually threw her away to one side with all the strength he possessed. The gun was literally snapped out of her hands by grasping branches and flung a few feet away into the thick vegetation as she thudded onto the ground and into a thicket of bushes not far away from her toilet bush.

The instructor carried on running, but he managed to gasp out what was to be his last instruction in this life. "Stay down. Stay down Sergeant and don't bloody move whatever you do, not a sound. That's a fucking order." He rasped.

She looked up from her prone position and opened her mouth to ask the most obvious question, but before she could speak, a strange whistling sound accompanied by at least three dull, thick thuds stopped her.

For a moment the instructor's eyes opened wide and she stared back at him with her mouth open, then he slowly dropped to his knees in front of her on the soft needles. His face grew slack and the final expression in his eyes before they emptied of life was vaguely surprised, as though those last moments were the most unexpected he had ever experienced. Kim started back in utter horror as he fell face down, not more than five feet away from her with three thick ebony fletched black arrows protruding from his back.

A brief silence once again enveloped the forest for a few seconds, then heavy footfalls interrupted it again as they approached hers and the instructor's position.

Mindful of the instructor's last order and his rather horrific death, she tried to stay as still and as silent as she could, but her ragged breathing sounded loud even to her. Her heart was thundering in her chest and she could hear the rushing of blood in her ears. There was an odd metallic taste in the back of her throat and she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. Somehow she just couldn't get her mind past the fact that someone had literally died in front of her.

As she pressed her face down into the ground and hoped to hell that her clothing and the vegetation would conceal her from whatever had killed the instructor, she could hear the noise of heavy, nasal breathing not far away. She also heard a guttural grunt and what sounded like metal and leather rubbing together so she gathered up her courage and ventured a quick look.

The strangest, most horrific looking creature was standing only feet away from her. He wasn't that tall, but he was broadly built and dressed in a weird assortment of what appeared to be some kind of armour made of rough leather and dull grey metal. The powerful, muscular legs were bare but he wore heavy iron shoes on his broad feet.

What hair he possessed was long, coarse and stringy. It may have been black in colour but it was difficult to tell since it was caked with what looked like dried red mud. Kim couldn't see his face because he was bending over the instructor's lifeless form, but she could see the huge quiver strapped on his back. It was filled with the fellows of the black arrows that were sticking out of the dead instructor's back. She could also see that he held a huge sword in his hand.

Armour? Swords? Bows and arrows? If she had wandered into some re-enactment then they were taking it far too far, but it couldn't be that. This creature didn't even look human.

Even as the frantic thoughts crowded her stressed brain, the horror wasn't over. The creature lifted up the instructor's head by its short hair and with one deft swipe, severed it from the torso, then he picked up the headless body and effortlessly slung it over his shoulder, almost like a hunter would carry a deer he had culled for food.

He bent down, picked up the head with one large hand and threw it almost casually into the thicket where Kim lay in breathless, terrified silence. It rolled towards her and the instructor's dead eyes stared accusingly into hers, but she didn't dare move; she couldn't move in fact. However she did involuntarily take in a sharp, shocked breath.

For the longest moment in Kim's life the creature – she couldn't think of him as a man - stood where he was, his sharp gaze sweeping the area as if checking for further prey. He had turned slightly to face her position so she finally got her first look at his face and her heart nearly stopped dead.

His features were broad and brutal. She could now see that his ears came to a graceful point, which was in direct contrast to the coarse features and narrowed glittering black slits of his eyes. His nose was broad and spread over his face as if it had been broken many times and his thin-lipped, half open mouth was filled with sharp blackened teeth. A smear of something dark and shiny clung to the side of his mouth and Kim got the sickening impression that it might have been fresh blood. She didn't want to wonder about where that had come from.

She stared at him in horrified fascination, unable to tear her gaze away and as she did so, he literally sniffed the air and made a guttural grunting noise deep in his throat. His black fathomless gaze finally alighted on the very thicket where she was lying and she held her breath.

_He can smell me_. She thought in panic and fear. _I think he can smell that I'm here._

For a moment it seemed as though she had been discovered. He took a step towards her and got as far as the toilet bush where she had been digging only minutes earlier. The creature looked down and apparently saw the partially uncovered metal, but instead of bending down to examine it more closely, he stepped back with a look akin to fear and disgust in his eyes and came no further in her direction. Whatever he had seen buried there in the earth had made him afraid for some reason.

After sweeping the area again with one look, he stalked off with his prey and disappeared in the same direction both he and the instructor had previously come from.

Kim made herself wait for a long time, until she was sure that he was well out of sight and then she raised herself painfully to her knees.

The bile she vomited up spattered on the vegetation and the tears that had been forming a reservoir behind her eyes spilled over and down her cheeks like hot rain.


	2. Theirs' Not to Reason Why

**Disclaimer:** From this point on I will be referring to Middle-earth and many familiar characters from both the Silmarillion and LOTR, therefore I should now state that I own none of Tolkien's original characters or concepts. All other characters and the basic plotline belong to me.

**NOTE:** I have chosen not to attempt long, tedious phrases of Sindarin because it will more than likely turn into awful 'Grelvish'. Where Elves are speaking to each other or thinking to themselves they are doing so in their own language. My original modern characters do not speak Elvish or Westron, consequently they are speaking in modern English, except those scenes where they are being taught Elvish words. Therefore there is a distinct language barrier in operation which will not be magically solved by some freak accident. Occasional phrases may creep in, but I have taken the precaution of consulting various Elvish language bases. If any reader feels they are incorrect, please do let me know, I am not proficient in Sindarin and will appreciate any input.

**REVIEWS**: Do so only if you wish to. I am not a review 'whore'. I am writing this because I got bitten by a plot-Nuzgul and can't shake him free and because I love Tolkien's world. There will be no Legomance in this one and hopefully I will stick to canon, but if I deviate I'm sure you will tell me in no uncertain terms! Any criticism is welcome. If you wish to flame me, I have no problem with that, my shoulders are broad and everyone is entitled to an opinion. I also have no intention of trotting out the hoary old 'If you don't like, don't read'. If you don't read, how will you know if you don't like? If you _don't_ like the story, please let me know why. Politely of course! I promise I won't have a hissy fit!

**Chapter 2 – Theirs not to reason why**

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"  
Was there a man dismay'd?  
Not tho' the soldiers knew  
Someone had blunder'd:  
Their's not to make reply,  
Their's not to reason why,  
Their's but to do and die:  
Into the valley of Death  
Rode the six hundred.

From: The Charge of the Light Brigade

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The bedside lamp cast a muted glow over the face of the woman lying pale and still on the hospital bed. One small hand lay over the sheets and rested on the counterpane, but was not unmarked. Major Gary Matthews could see, even from where he was standing, that it had been scored by long sharp branches during her haphazard flight of terror out of one of the more deserted areas in the Forest of Dean.

She had stumbled into the village of Whitecroft at the southern end of the forest in an extreme state of shock and practically incoherent. Unable to make any sense out of her hysterical tale, the police had then taken her to Lydney for hospital treatment prior to proper questioning. She currently lay in a small side ward with a police constable sitting outside the door.

"How is she?" Gary kept his voice low since it was only three in the morning and most of the hospital was asleep. The corridors were softly lit and silent. Only those staff unfortunate enough to be on night duty occasionally made an appearance walking with soft footfalls.

Detective Inspector Alun Davis, who had been waiting for the British Army representative who was also the Adjutant of Sergeant Freeman's unit to arrive, spoke in soft tones. "She's not badly hurt. More bumps and bruises than bad injuries, but she _is_ in shock so they've given her a sedative. She's mostly been asleep since they did that."

Gary sighed heavily. "Do we know what happened to her?"

Davis shook his head. "Apart from the hysterical garbage she was spouting about monsters in the woods killing the instructor which nobody could untangle, we haven't been able to make head nor tail of her story. We were hoping to get some sort of statement when she regains consciousness."

The quiet of the dim hospital corridor was momentarily disrupted by the clatter of an operating theatre trolley being pushed by an orderly and accompanied by a nurse with a clipboard. Gary assumed that they were fetching someone to theatre. He and Davis moved out of the way and the nurse smiled at them in thanks.

"Is there anywhere we can talk quietly, preferably without being disturbed?" Gary queried.

Davis nodded and gestured back along the corridor. "The chapel is just down there. It should be quiet enough." The Major's cautious and slightly reluctant attitude had got his curiosity aroused. Obviously there was more to this whole thing than the police were aware of.

Once in the chapel Gary waited until the chaplain had left before turning to the policeman. "The thing is Inspector, Sergeant Freeman was only one of a training group who had gone into the forest. There are twelve more trainees and five Staff Instructors unaccounted for. Divisional HQ Training Wing can't raise any one of them and they were starting to worry. When the message came through about Sergeant Freeman we had hoped…" His voice trailed off.

Now it was Davis' turn to sigh. "Nobody has reported any other people coming out of that part of the forest. We did assume that the lass wasn't on her own, so the local force who know that part of the forest went out about two hours ago with a representative of the Forest of Dean and a member of the Forestry Commission to see if they could find anyone or anything. I'm waiting for them to report back to see if they have been able to locate anyone else." There was an undertone of irritation in his voice at the military's apparent unwillingness to keepthe local authoritiesinformed of the movement of their personnel.

Gary opened his mouth to speak however the soft, but insistent, shrilling of the Inspector's mobile phone forestalled him. He sat quietly while the policeman listened to the person on the other end and watched with a sinking heart as the man's previously mildly worried expression turned grim. He didn't need to be told that whatever the policeman was hearing, it wasn't good news.

Davis finally switched off his phone and stared at it for a moment as if wishing it could ring and tell him something different. Finally he looked up at Gary. "There has apparently been some kind of incident in one of the deeper reaches of the forest. My lads have found where your trainees were setting up camp but…" He stopped and swallowed convulsively.

"But what?" Gary prompted gently.

"There's no easy way to say this." Davis looked awful. "All the lads found were a pile of charred bones and some severed heads. You said there were seventeen soldiers out there? Well they found sixteen severed heads littered around the area, which would make the young lady's hysterical outpourings possibly feasible."

Gary's head was reeling in shock. One part of his mind had instantly been benumbed by the horrific news, but the other was frantically trying to recall which of the trainees had been from his own unit. "What are you trying to tell me?" He asked. His lips felt frozen. "That someone killed and dismembered seventeen soldiers of the British Army and then burnt their bodies?"

Davis cleared his throat loudly. An elderly man in a dressing gown who had wandered in quietly while they were speaking turned in his pew near the altar and frowned in disapproval. Davis smiled an apology at him and continued, keeping his voice lowered respectfully. "The Forensics people and the Crime Scene Investigation team are on their way as we speak and your Divisional HQ has been notified. They are sending their own forensics people and some Brigadier whose name I can't remember. We won't know exactly what happened until forensics have been over the crime scene." He cast a glance in the direction of the ward where Kim Freeman lay. "Or until the young lady in there enlightens us."

Something in his tone told Gary that the police considered her to be a suspect and he immediately felt drawn to defend her. "Are you implying that Sergeant Freeman is responsible for this atrocity? I mean we aren't even sure that the bones are human are we?"

"If they aren't, then where are the bodies the heads should have been attached to?" Davis' tone was even. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag, which he laid on his knee. Through the clear plastic Gary could see that it was some kind of ornate weapon, a dagger with what looked like a gold handle carved with symbols and a curved lethal looking blade, also with some symbols carved into it. "Sergeant Freeman was carrying this when she ran into the village." He handed the plastic bag to Gary who stared at it dully.

"It's not military issue." The statement sounded pathetic and not even remotely funny, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

Davis didn't laugh; instead he raised one eyebrow. "I didn't think for one minute that it was. We dusted it for prints and found nothing but the young lady's prints and another set that the database hasn't been able to identify. So far she hasn't been able to give us a statement of where she got the weapon and where it fits into all of this."

"I'm pretty sure that Sergeant Freeman couldn't, wouldn't have been capable of fighting off seventeen large trained soldiers, decapitating them and then putting them on a bonfire." Gary asserted stoutly. "There _had_ to be someone else there. A number of someone else's in fact." He handed the bag back to Davis who put it back in his pocket.

"As it happens I agree with you." He said slowly. "I don't think for one minute that the lass did it, but in the absence of any other explanation you must understand that we have to consider her a prime suspect. The ground around the site was apparently disrupted to a large degree. There were many footprints and the CSI people will have cordoned it off by now to make casts. However, if you want I can take you out there to see for yourself. I understand that they found a few dog tags. They'll have to be dusted for prints of course, but they should serve as a form of identification. The sad and worrying fact is that all we have at present is a crime scene, some bones, sixteen heads, a dagger with Sergeant Freeman's and anunknown person's prints on it and a huge fucking mystery. Not to mention where did the seventeenth head go to."

Gary tapped his fingers on the back of the pew thoughtfully. Finally he turned to Davis. "Perhaps Sergeant Freeman might respond better to someone she knows? Like me?"

Davis nodded. "It's possible. Do you want to talk to her now? I can speak to the nurse and get her current condition assessed."

"Yes, please do so Inspector." Gary stood up with a determined look on his even features.

Davis left the chapel and was gone for a few minutes, a time that Gary used to try and collect his scattered thoughts. The mobile phone in his pocket began to play the theme from the Dambusters and the old man in the dressing gown turned around with a ferocious scowl.

"Sorry." Gary called over softly, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. He went outside the chapel to take the call from his Commanding Officer who was now in his car with his driver on his way to Lydney. Finally he shut the phone off with an inward groan. It was bad enough that this was a major incident that would devastate the families of the dead and the unit as a whole, all they bloody needed was for the Old Man to get his knickers in a twist and jump up and down.

Davis tapped Gary on the shoulder making him jump. "She's sleepy, but a lot more coherent. The nurse says we could try to talk to her now, but not to upset her unduly. I'll have to stay in the room with you though." He warned.

"I have no objection to that Inspector."

They made their way to the small side ward where Kim Freeman lay, now awake, but with those hideous scenes from the forest swirling unchecked through her exhausted brain.

**Somewhere in West Beleriand, Year 553 First Age**

"Speak." The golden-haired figure at the table looked up wearily as one of the scouts returned and stood hovering in the doorway of the tent.

The young warrior's face was streaked with dirt and his expression was grim. It occurred to Ingwion that the last time he had seen the young ellon was at one of the festivals on the slopes of Taniquetl. Only then he did not look lean, dirtyand exhausted, he had looked happy, leaping high and joyfullyin the dances with the beautiful young ellyth. The mane of golden hair that he had tossed in a carefree fashion on that day was now tied back in warrior braids, something the young Vanyarin males would not have usually considered doing in their peaceful daily lives.

However this was not a time of peace. The Valar had decreed that Morgoth was to be captured and returned in chains for judgement. To that end Lord Eonwe, the Herald of Manwehad caused the trumpets to be sounded for the gathering of the Host of the Valar and many a young Vanyarin would not see their home again until they were released from the Halls of Waiting by Lord Namo, the Doomsman of the Valar.

Ingwion could see the utter weariness in the young man's face. He gestured to the chair beside his map-strewn table. "Sit and rest awhile. You are exhausted." He poured some wine into a goblet and the young warrior stared fixedly at the deep purple liquid spilling into the vessel. He sat down in the chair and Ingwion handed the wine to him with a reassuring smile. "Drink, and regain your strength. Even the greatest and bravest warrior should not be ashamed to admit that he needs rest. What is your name child?"

The young ellon pushed some loose strands of his hair behind his delicately pointed ears with a weary hand. Ingwion noted that his hair no longer shone like strands of living gold, but instead hung lank, greyish and damp with sweat around his shoulders.

"Rion, my Lord Ingwion." He answered respectfully and took a gulp of the powerful wine which immediately went straight to his head, especially given the fact that he had been travelling four days straight without stopping.

Ingwion hid a smile when he saw the young ellon's pale blue eyes glaze over slightly. He reached out and put a restraining hand on the youngster's shoulder. "Not so much and not so fast little one. This is a powerful brew." He cautioned gravely, but his eyes twinkled with merriment.

"No my Lord. I mean yes, my Lord." Rion flushed and bit his lip in irritation. Being almost two hundred years old, he considered himself to be an adult and was annoyed with himself for behaving like an elfling in the presence of Lord Ingwion.

Ingwion sighed and poured himself some wine. He sat down and studied the young warrior. How long ago had it been since he was such a callow youth and prone to blushing? It seemed like longer than all of the Ages of Arda put together. "This is not a test Rion. It's just a goblet of wine. Drink and release your cares, at least for the moment." He sipped his own wine and ran his finger along the rim. "Tell me. What of my brother?"

Ingwion happened to ask this most important question just as Rion was taking another sip. The wine went down the wrong way and he ended up bright red in the face with a coughing fit. Ingwion waited patiently until he had gathered himself together.

"We searched along the coastline my Lord and then travelled along Lord Melannen's path east as far as we dared. The forest there is thick and full of ancient trees. They spoke to us of a small party and an ambush by a party of Orcs, but we could find no sign of our kindred, other than a small stack of kindling set to one side under a tree. Of Lord Melannen and his guards there was no sign whatsoever. It is as if they disappeared off the face of Arda completely." He glanced anxiously at Ingwion whose expression was now grim. "We did not dare delay our return any longer my Lord, the Host moves so swiftly, we were afraid that we would be cut off. However we did meet up with one Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finarfin, or so he maintained."

"Gildor?" Ingwion jumped up with a look of pleasure on his face. "I am acquainted with him from the time before the kin slaying. I had no idea he still lived, but am glad for it."

Rion gave a hesitant smile. "Then the grace of Elbereth must have been shining on our meeting for he asked for news of you. When we told him that you were here among the Host of the Valar he sent his greetings to you. We asked if he had seen your brother, but he said he had not and that he was heading to join up with the forces of Ereinion Gil-galad and Lord Cirdan, but that if he came across himhe would point him in the right direction and send him to you!"

Ingwion's silvery laughter floated out of the tent at this and those nearby smiled to hear it. Since Lord Melannen's disappearance whilst on a patrol, Ingwion's usually ready laughter had been absent.

"That rascal." He chuckled. "I wager he would do that too _and_ paddle Melannen's backside into the bargain. Did he say aught else?"

Rion shook his head and put his now empty goblet on the table. "Only that he would keep both eyes and ears open for sign of Lord Melannen." He glanced at his Lord apologetically. "I am sorry my Lord, we did all that you asked of us."

Ingwion's fair face grew sad and grim again. "I know little one and I thank you for it. My brother is either alive and trying to find his way back or he is already in the Halls of Waiting. Either way, I will see him again, Namo willing. We will have to trust to luck and our kindred here in Middle-earth. I cannot afford to send anyone else in search now. Lord Eonwe orders us to move camp tomorrow." He glanced over at the exhausted and now rather sleepy Rion. "Go now. Eat and get some rest. We have an early start on the morrow."

Rion stood up and bowed low. "Goodnight my Lord."

Ingwion smiled absently at him, his mind already moving to the maps of the area and thinking about the strategies outlined in Lord Eonwe's meeting between his senior commanders.


	3. Reality Bites

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2

Chapter 3 – Reality Bites 

"Dreaming permits each  
and every one of us  
to be quietly and safely   
insane every night  
of our lives"  
- William Dement

Her eyes streamed with tears and her breathing was ragged and shallow, as if she couldn't gather in enough air to make her lungs function fast enough. Whip-thin branches snagged at her hair and snapped viciously against her face leaving a myriad of thin cuts across her face and hands as she tried to ward them off and protect her eyes. Tiny beads of blood welled up from them and the red blended with the dark green and black camouflage cream she had applied only hours earlier.

It almost seemed as if the very forest itself was trying to hinder her escape. It wilfully placed bushes and thorn thickets in her path and threatened to send her flying with some bulbous tree root that really had no business being above ground at all.

Her flight was haphazard and it felt like her combat boots had turned to solid iron; they clumped across the ground tripping over things and weighing her down when what she really needed was speed.

And all the time she could hear the relentless thundering of her pursuer's feet accompanied by the smashing of branches and vegetation seemingly just behind her. Once or twice she thought she could even feel the hot fetid breath, reeking of a recent blood fest on the back of her neck. The eyes of her instructor, milky in death, found her and pierced her soul with reproach. The bloodied mouth, that by rights should speak no more, opened and spoke in a dry whisper like the rustling of dead leaves.

_Avenge me. Avenge us!_

"No, no, no, no". She heard a high-pitched voice that she vaguely recognised as hers. "Don't think about that; don'tthinkabouthim, don'tthinkabouttheothers. Just don't think at all!"

There was a light ahead, something that glowed ethereally in between the thick tree trunks. Was it her imagination or was the forest growing more trees by the second? Soon she wouldn't fit between them at all. She obviously needed to be much thinner. Hysterical giggles bubbled up inside her until she thought her chest would burst unless she let them out.

Head for the light. The thought popped entirely unbidden into her mind. Isn't that what those medium types always said? She spotted a gap in the trees, veered off her flight path and stumbled into a small clearing. A small sob escaped her as she recognised the place. She had been running around in circles. 

"Pen tithen, dartho"

The voice was so soft she wasn't actually sure she had heard it and at first it seemed that there was nobody there who could have spoken.

The clearing was bathed in a soft luminous glow. It wasn't a bright and painful light yet she still found that her eyes were stinging and having trouble focussing. Was that a figure in the middle of the clearing; someone with a nimbus of light surrounding them? She wiped her sore eyes on the sleeve of her combat jacket and blinked furiously.

Slowly a more solid form began to coalesce through the glow. The sounds of the crashing and guttural grunting drew closer and she felt a spasm of panic in her gut. She had to go, dallying here was not a good idea no matter how pretty the light show was. Beyond the trees lay safety and sanity, a respite from the madness surrounding her and that threatened to swallow her whole.

She blinked as the tall, lithe figure of a man stepped out in front of her. Her eyes widened as she saw that he had the face of an angel. Bright eyes, lit from behind with captured starlight regarded her with both sorrow and consolation in their depths. His face was slender and so fair that she would have been hard put to describe it adequately in mere language and was framed with a heavy mass of gold hair that hung nearly to his waist. Her mouth gaped in awe at his beauty and by comparison she felt small, ugly, dark and primitive.

He placed one hand over his heart and bowed to her in matchless courtesy and she was about to ask him who he was when the crashing noises solidified into her pursuer and her heart froze solid in her chest. However instead of charging at her swinging its sword in an arc that would instantly kill her, it turned to face the golden man, dark eyes glittering with bloodlust and triumph. For a moment the comparison between perfection and imperfection was stunning in its clarity.

The creature reached out one large bloodstained paw and grasped the golden man by his shoulder. At the same time it let out a bloodcurdling, ululating cry that froze the marrow in her bones. Seconds later an answering cry came from the surrounding woodland.

She tried to scream at the golden man to fight, defend himself, but although her mouth opened nothing whatsoever came out and when she tried to move she found she was rooted to the spot. A sob escaped her as the golden man allowed himself to be bound and drawn away by a noose around his neck. He looked no more at her, but turned and was led away. However, as he followed his captor, she quite clearly saw something fall from him, as though it had been loosely concealed about his person and had just been waiting for the right time to make its escape.

It fell with a soft thud at her feet and when she looked down she saw a shining dagger with a golden hilt as bright as the gold of its' owner's hair and a shining curved blade that reflected the starlight of his bright eyes lying on the ground.

She bent down and picked it up. Even to her untutored hand the balance felt just right and despite the gold of the hilt it was virtually weightless. It was a thing of beauty which possessed a warmth that belied the cold metals it was manufactured from and thrummed with a small power entirely of its own. She turned it over in her hand and examined it in fascination but her scrutiny was disturbed by the sensation of someone else there and her heart leapt with fear as she recalled her dire predicament. She looked up expecting to see one of the creatures turning back to kill her, but instead the bloodied form of the instructor, back on his feet and head in its proper place stood in front of her.

She started back in horror as the bloodied mouth opened again.

_Avenge me. Avenge us!  
_  
Other forms materialised out of the thick trees, all covered in blood and hands outstretched in entreaty. Their mouths echoed the first cry for revenge and their icy cold, clammy hands pulled at her clothing and touched her face. Suffused with horror and disgust she sank to the ground, holding her arms protectively over her head. A keening wail issued from her throat.

oOo

Gary Matthews had been dozing in a chair by Kim's bedside since trying to talk to her a few hours earlier. The discussion had been fruitless because the sedative the doctor had given her made her very muddled and prone to dropping off to sleep in the middle of a sentence. He had eventually given up with a sigh and the Inspector had left to visit the crime scene with a strict admonition to Gary that he wasn't to talk to Kim without the constable outside the door or himself being present.

Consequently he was feeling a little muddled himself when the sound from the bed resolved itself into a wail worthy of an air raid siren. He jumped up and immediately tried to calm her down. "Sgt Freeman. Kim, it's okay, you're safe. Whatever it is, you're just dreaming."

By this time the young constable had come into the room. "Is she all right sir?" He looked as bleary-eyed as Gary felt.

Kim was now sitting up in the hospital bed heaving huge gulps of air in between ragged gasps and sobs. A sheen of sweat clung to her pale skin. "Th..the knife, the dagger, where is it?" She groped blindly on the bedside table, nearly knocking over a glass of water, which Gary rescued in the nick of time before it crashed to the floor.

He gently took both of her hands. "The police have it Sgt Freeman. It's evidence."

She looked blankly at him. "Evidence? Evidence for what?" In a flash remembrance and the horrifying reality of it flooded her consciousness. "Oh god." She let out a whimper and lay back with her eyes closed. The tears squeezed out from under her eyelids. 

Gary indicated that the constable should sit in the other chair. He then handed Kim a wad of tissue which she clutched in her hand. She turned her face to the pillow and sobbed as if her heart was broken in two.

"Should I get the nurse?" The constable whispered.

Gary shook his head. "I don't think there's anything she can do except give her another sedative. Personally I think this is better out than in. We need her compos mentis and calm so we can talk to her." He grinned at the young man. "I didn't get your name."

The constable grinned back. "I don't think anyone thought to make a formal introduction." He reached over the bed and held out his hand. "Police Constable Jim Moore."

Gary took the proffered hand. "Major Gary Matthews. I'm the Adjutant for Sgt Freeman's unit for my sins, which are obviously many!"

Kim's sobs had started to die down to a series of sniffs and hiccups. She blew her nose and stared at the two men with tear-washed eyes. "None of it is a dream is it?" Her voice was forlorn. "They're all dead, aren't they?"

Gary glanced over at Jim who now had his notebook and a pencil out. "Yes." He said quietly. "We believe they are. We're just waiting for the forensics to finish up, then we'll know a bit more, but we need to hear your side of the story as well. Do you feel up to talking about it?"

Kim sniffled again and stared across at the window. Shafts of pale sunlight were trying to steal through chinks in the curtains. "What time is it?" She asked.

Jim answered her. "It's eight in the morning."

"How long have I been here?"

"Since about nine yesterday evening." Jim said quietly. "You were brought in by the local Whitecroft copper after you stumbled into somebody's garden and tried to beat their door down." He gave a faint smile. "At the same time as waving around a lethal looking dagger. I think the elderly couple thought their last hour had come."

He managed to wring a tiny smile out of Kim and Gary sent him a grateful look.

"How…how many did they find?" She asked quietly.

"I'm afraid they didn't find any of them alive." Gary replied gently.

"What about the blond man? Was he among the…dead?" She spoke the last word with a grimace as if reluctant to admit that any of her colleagues had died.

Gary's raised an eyebrow. "Blond man?"

"Yes, a really gorgeous looking bloke with long blond hair. He was the one who dropped the dagger." A small furrow appeared between her brows. "No." She said slowly. "That can't be right, because I dug the dagger out of the ground. Unless he came later, after WO2 Irwin was…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes filled with tears again.

"WO2 Irwin was?" Gary prompted carefully. "What happened to him Kim, do you know?"

Kim licked her lips and stared up at the two men under her lashes then she looked down and picked at a loose thread on the coverlet. "That thing killed him. It chased him through the woods and then it killed him."

Thing? Gary looked at Jim who shrugged. "What do you mean by thing? It's very important that you give a description so that the police know who they are looking for."

Kim's reaction to this was extraordinary to say the least. She burst into helpless giggles. "Description? I don't think I'll have a problem there." She managed to blurt out between snorts of laughter. "It was a thing, sort of human, but not human, like primitive. It was wearing armour and heavy metal boots and it came out of the bushes and chopped WO2 Irwin's head right off with a huge sword in front of me, then it picked up the body and marched off with it."

"He didn't see you?"

She shook her head. "No, because Mr Irwin threw me into a thick bush before the thing caught up with him and told me to stay down. He said it was an order. So I stayed down, but then I looked. There was lots of blood." She stopped laughing and her bottom lip began to wobble.

Jim was writing furiously and Gary put a gentle hand on her arm. "Take it easy Kim, you've been through a lot. Give yourself some breathing space."

"I can bring in an Identikit officer and an artist." Jim said. "Perhaps they can cobble together a reasonable likeness."

Gary nodded. "Do it now if you want, I promise I won't ask Sgt Freeman any more questions till you get back. And see if there was another body amongst the soldiers. A tall man with long fair hair."

Jim nodded and left the room.

"Sir?"

Gary turned to her with a question in his eyes.

"I don't think the blond man will be with the dead. I think he's still alive and we have to go and rescue him."

"How do you know?" Gary asked curiously.

"Because…" She bit her lip and looked towards the window again. "Because I can feel he's still alive. I didn't seemhim in the clearing with that thing and Mr Irwin, but he was there, either before I got there or after. They captured him, but I don't think they want to kill him. They need him alive."

It was beginning to sound like she was rambling again, so Gary decided a little officer-style firmness wouldn't go amiss. "I think you should get some more rest Sgt Freeman. We can talk some more later."

She recognised an order when she heard one, but the truth was that her head was swimming and she knew she should close her eyes. It was just that every time she did she saw the reproachful faces of the dead demanding vengeance. She felt guilty that she was still alive and that she owed them.

"We need to rescue him." She said sleepily.

"We will." Gary soothed her. He wasn't sure what else to say.

"We need to give him his dagger back."

"We'll do that too."

Her breathing grew soft and regular, so he decided to take the opportunity of stretching his legs out in the corridor. Perhaps some kind nurse would offer to make him a cup of tea. He managed to get as far as the door when her tired voice stopped him.

"Sir?"

Gary sighed. "What now Sgt Freeman?"

"The blond man. I think he might be an Elf sir."

Gary was nonplussed. "An Elf? You mean like leprechauns and faeries and stuff? For god's sake Sergeant what did they give you last night?"

A gentle snore was all he got by way of an answer.


	4. Chapter 4 Lead me, follow me, or get th...

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter Two  
**Note:** Thank you to my two reviewers, I very much appreciate the time you took to read the story. My quote person for this chapter is the World War Two hero General Geroge Patton Jr.

**Chapter 4 – Lead me, follow me, or get the hell out of my way – Part One **

"An "The army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team.  
This individuality stuff is a bunch of bullshit."  
**- General George Patton Jr**

**The March of the Host of the Valar, Year 553 First Age**

The light of Middle-earth might well have been more delicate than the Blessed Isle of Aman, but Rion could still appreciate the crisp freshness of the early morning air and the earthy smell of a forest still covered in dew. Pale shafts of sunlight managed to steal through the thick canopy of foliage and created light in the dimness. Everything here smelt different. The scent of the leaves and the earth was more subtly drawn; the water did not have the rich wine-like clarity of the springs and falls in Aman but an odd metallic taste which told of origins deep in the mountains of fire that had been part of the birth of Arda. Nothing had prepared him for the fact that Middle-earth was more like a pale cousin many times removed in comparison with the rich, scented and scintillating fullness that was his homeland.

"You will find Arda Marred to be vastly different to anything you have grown used to." His atar who had awoken at Cuivenan and followed Ingwe and Orome the Valar over to Aman cautioned grimly. "The forests are ancient and dark. It is rumoured that many terrible things still roam there. On our journey to the coast before coming to the Blessed Isle many were lost along the way, not least to Melkor the deceiver with his honeyed tongue and his creatures. Arda Marred is a dangerous place best now left to the beasts. It is no longer a fit place for the Firstborn and it is only the fact that the Valar wish to remove Morgoth that they send an army there to settle things once and for all and open the road West for those who deserve it."

"What of the ban on the Ngolodh kinslayers?" Rion had asked curiously.

His atar's face darkened. "They deserve no mercy from us. Namo pronounced their doom as they left Aman, let them live with it as best they can. They do not deserve a place here."

His wife sighed deeply, but made no comment, instead she kept her attention on her loom.

"I know what you feel." His atar said defensively casting a glance at her. "I have heard many say the same; that the Noldoli deserve pity and forgiveness. Tell that to those who lost loved ones at Aqualonde, tell that to the Teleri widows who grieve for their husbands. Not all of them have been yet released from Mandos. Too easily have the crimes committed by the Feanorians been forgotten here. However there are many who do not wish them to be here."

Rion exchanged a wry glance with his mother who smiled faintly and encouragingly at him. "It is my belief that Lord Manwe will offer the kinslayers a release of the ban nevertheless. We cannot continue to live with this hatred among our kindred, Noldor or otherwise, it will destroy us. Forgiveness must needs begin some time. Let it be now." She countered gently and snipped off one of the richly coloured threads of wool. "And now I must make supper. We need an early night if we are to travel to the coast to see Rion off with the Host." She stood up and went into the kitchens to supervise the evening meal.

The anxious faces of his parents were the last things Rion had seen as the ship carrying him and many other Vanyarin warriors pulled away from the quay. He desperately strained to keep them in view even as the thin ghostly tendrils of mist curled themselves around the ships and the Elven warriors who still crowded the side, hopeful of keeping their loved ones' faces in their memory; not knowing when or if they would see them again.

It was the brightness of the ship carrying the Maiar Eonwe, Herald of Manwe that guided the fleet through the mists that had been caused to form around the Blessed Isles in order to hide them from the eyes of mortals. His inner light shone like a beacon of hope and courage even when the mists grew thicker and darker. Rion and many of his companions had been heartsick and only recovered when the fleet had finally cleared the mists and the sparkling wine-dark seas of Middle-earth had become evident.

The sound of hooves jerked Rion back into the present. A dapple-grey stallion, a splendid beast, rode swiftly past the column where Rion and his comrades in arms marched behind their Lord Ingwion and his senior commanders. Long white hair streamed from the rider's head and he looked neither left nor right, not even to check that no one was in his way. As he passed he turned his head briefly and looked directly at Rion who saw his face and decided that it was akin to a hawk or even an eagle perhaps. He had a large hooked nose and bearded mouth set in a hard straight line below eyes of depthless black.

"Don't stare too hard." An amused voice said in Rion's ear. "He may turn you into something wholly unnatural."

Rion turned to find that a dark-haired ellon had reined in his huge bay horse beside the column and was grinning mischievously at him. He struggled to remember his name but only succeeded in recalling that his liege-lord was Finarfin, High King of the Noldor who remained in Aman after the kinslayers had left and that he had been attached as liaison to the Vanyarin column.

Rion frowned as he watched the grey stallion disappear with his rider in the cloud of dust kicked up by the horse's hooves. "I do not remember him from Aman."

The Noldor smiled. "He _was_ there, but you will not have seen him on the slopes of Taniquetl much. He is Curunir, a Maiar of the order Istari, or Wizard as some name him. He is a servant of Aule here to assist Lord Eonwe."

Rion looked troubled. "_Can _he turn me into something unnatural?" He asked doubtfully.

The Noldor threw back his head and roared with laughter, then he shrugged nonchalantly. "Who knows? He is a Maiar, he is probably capable of conjuring many things just with a wave of his hand. He works with fire and the clay of the earth and Aule smiles upon his creativity." He dug his heels into the bay's sides. The horse reared slightly and whinnied causing the fair-haired warrior in front of Rion to turn and glare fiercely. Cheerfully unconcerned about the anger directed at him the Noldor bent down slightly towards Rion as his horse pawed the ground, eager to be off. "I would be careful though. You caught his eye. He could well have earmarked you for his next project." Then he was gone leaving Rion standing with his mouth open and looking foolish. The silvery laughter trickled back along the track.

"What project?" Now Rion looked much more than troubled.

The fair-haired warrior shook his head. "Cursed Noldorin, you would think that here in the land of their kinslaying kindred, they would act with _some_ decorum. The fruit seldom falls far from the tree."

"You must not be afraid of Curunir little one. He would not hurt you. Nor will he turn you into a toad." A deep amused voice interrupted them before Rion could answer the warrior. They both turned and immediately dropped to one knee in front of the mighty Eonwe himself. Behind him, on the largest coal black horse Rion had ever seen sat an imposing figure with the glow of the Valar and the music of the Ainur clinging to his person. Bright yellow hair flowed from under a winged silver helmet and his eyes were atwinkling periwinkle blue.

"_Lord Tulcas_." The warrior breathed in awestruck tones. "_The Valar grace us with their presence this day."_

Despite being as awestruck as his colleague at the sight of the Commander of the Host and one of the Valar casually riding alongside the column, Rion was more concerned at the idea that he might end up as a wizard's experiment.

Eonwe seemed to sense his perturbation,he dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to the fair-haired warrior who bowed deeply. "I would be grateful if you would lead my horse for me." He said quietly and the warrior inclined his head, conscious of the great honour bestowed on him. The Maiar gave him one of his swift beautiful smiles and then turned to Rion. "Walk with me for a little while."

Rion blushed to the roots of his hair. What on earth had he done now? Everyone in the column was now staring and whispering to each other. At least it felt that way to him and it was hugely embarrassing. To his great relief Lord Tulcas did not dismount. Instead with a gentle pressure of his knees he slowed his horse to keep pace with Eonwe and Rion.

"Your name is Rion is it not?" Eonwe asked him.

Rion bobbed his head furiously. "Yes my Lord, but how did you know of me?"

Eonwe gave him a strange little smile. "Think you that I do not know every Elf and creature in my charge here in Arda Marred? What kind of commander would I be were I not to interest myself in the affairs of those who will fight in the name of the Valar and Iluvator?"

"I would think that you have a very large memory my Lord." Rion said admiringly before he could stop himself. "There are thousands here."

Another beautiful smile and Rion's devotion was captured forever. "Tens of thousands, even _hundreds_ of thousands, but my memory is both large and long. Which is just as well since I will have to account for each and every one of you, both to Lord Namo _and_ Lord Manwe at the end of the war." He changed the subject abruptly. "You were the warrior in charge of the search partythat went to look for Lord Melannen were you not?"

A shadow fell across Rion's face. "Yes my Lord." His failure to find Melannen still distressed him greatly. Tears filled his eyes and he struggled to stop them from rolling down his cheeks.

"Lord Ingwion told me of your conversation with him." He laid a gentle, conforting hand on Rion's shoulder. "Do not let your heart be troubled child. Destiny is not so well ordered that everything happens without disruption. It is more like a great ocean that swells to mighty waves when you had thought to have calm waters and becomes a millpond when you expect a great storm. You were not destined to find Lord Melannen, for his path now lies in a different direction to ours, at least for the moment. Be at peace young Rion, you must gather your strength and courage for the battles yet to be faced and won."

Rion furiously blinked away his tears. "But what if those hideous creatures, those orcs, have him? He will need us to rescue him." His voice was laced with despair.

"We can spare no others for it now, all are needed for the battle to come." Eonwe answered gently. "But do not despair. Be easy in your mind that others have been allotted that task and even now move to achieve it." He gestured to the warrior who held his horse and mounted when the animal was brought to him. Once mounted he smiled down at Rion. "I will look for your progress with interest Rion. Namarie." Then he dug his heels into his horse and cantered away followed by Lord Tulcas. Rion's hopelessly adoring gaze followed the tall handsome Maiar until he and the Vala were swallowed up among the trees.

"You should be careful to whom you bestow that devastating smile young one." Tulcas said jovially. "I think you have gained yet another admirer. You leave them floundering in your wake like lost children."

Eonwe looked shocked. "Are you suggesting that I deliberately arouse their devotion and then treat them like mere flotsam and jetsam on the waves? Shame on you for thinking that I could behave so callously Lord Tulcas."

"Oh I don't think you even realise you're doing it." Declared the Vala cheerfully. "But if you asked that young ellon to crawl to the final battle on his hands and knees I swear that he would do it and eat dirt all the way in the hopes of just one smile from those beautiful lips of yours."

Eonwe touched his lips without thinking and then, realising what he was doing, crossly put his hand back on the neck of his horse. Tulcas saw him and gave a sly chuckle. "It's the physical form you choose to take my lad." He stared critically at the Herald whose shapely brows drew together in a horrible scowl under the scrutiny.

Eonwe's chosen form was that of a human mortal with rounded ears, unlike the leaf shape of the Eldar, but any further resemblance between him and an ordinary member of the Edain on Middle-earth ended there. His hair hung in glossy golden brown waves to his waist and, when not tied in warrior braids, usually framed his strong square shaped face and a chin scored by a deep cleft.

His eyes were blue, but instead of the pale periwinkle of Tulcas, they were a dark and moody hue framed by thick dark lashes. His mouth was finely sculpted and yet mobile and when he smiled two deep dimples peeped out on either side of it. His physique was matchless. Broad shoulders and muscular chest narrowed down to a slim waist and long, perfectly shaped, finely muscled legs completed the picture. The whole effect was emphasised by the distinct golden glow that emanated from his skin.

"What exactly is _wrong_ with my form?" Eonwe demanded.

Tulcas shrugged and grinned. "Oh absolutely nothing. You cut a very fine dashingly handsome figure, especially for a human."

"I _always_ wear this form." Eonwe sounded affronted. "Everyone is used to it. If I suddenly appeared tall and willowy with a thatch of golden hair and pointed ears nobody would know who I was. Confusion would reign. Not least from Lord Manwe himself."

Tulcas shouted with laughter. "I am _just saying_! Oh my, you are just too easy to bait my child. Just be careful where you cast that lethal smile of yours or you'll be leaving a trail of broken hearts and fading Elves behind you wherever you go."

Eonwe rolled his eyes in exasperation and disgust. "Did Lord Manwe send you to me just to torment me?"

Tulcas' face grew serious. "Not at all. He sent me to aid you. Your beautiful smile and form will count as nothing when we finally face Morgoth. Then we shall see if my lessons in warcraft have been learned well."

Eonwe sighed. "Are you here to take command my Lord?" He asked formally.

"Not at all. Command of the Host was rightfully given to you and I can think of no-one better to lead them."

Eonwe stared at the Vala. "Then when the final push comes you will allow me to lead?"

Tulcas smiled gently at him. "Are you asking me whether I will muscle in on you and take command or whether I will follow you?"

Eonwe was silent for a moment. "Both." He said finally.

Tulcas raised a blond eyebrow. "Perhaps I will do neither." He said with a mischievous wink.

"Then if you can't do either, at the very least stay out of my way." Said Eonwe with a determined glint in his eyes.

Tulcas' roar of laughter was so loud the trees rustled and the ground shook.

"I do wish Lord Tulcas wouldn't do that." Finarfin said crossly as he tried to control his nervous steed. "He frightens the very devil out of the horses."

"Not to mention the rest of the Host." Murmured his second in command.

**Note:** Curunir is one of Saruman's other names


	5. Lead me, follow me, or get the hell out ...

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers: **

**Phantom Bard:** Thank you for offering corrections, it is much appreciated, the trouble with the term Maia/Maiar is that I continually get them around the wrong way. Thank you for pointing it out. **The 'c' in Tulcas** came from the fact that I am reading 'The Re-shaping of Middle-earth' at the moment. Tulcas is spelled that way in the book and I rather preferred it. I know lots of people do have trouble with 'c' being pronounced as a hard 'k' in Quenya. I will adopt your suggestion about the **Ngoldor** - I rather like that term for them. I had not taken into consideration that the word I used was singular and I should have been referring to them in the plural. Thanks again. I freely admit that I am not a scholar of the language, although I do find it fascinating.

**The collision of modern and ancient worlds** has to be handled rather delicately in my view, because I need a damn good, solid reason for the interaction in the first place, as I don't want this just to be another 'modern people fell into ME' story. I think this is why I've involved the military instead of 'average Miss Josephine Public'. The stories of the two groups of characters, modern and ancient, will probably run parallel for most of the tale however the modern soldiers will eventually meet up with their ancient Elven counterparts for brief period before things get back to normal for both sides.

As for the speed of updating, my trouble is that when a Nuzgul bites me, I can't let go until the frantic literary activity is completely spent. Also I am avoiding going back to doing the re-writes of my book currently demanded by my editor. In short, I am playing truant. Naughty me!

Chapter 5 – Lead me, follow me, or get the hell out of my way – Part Two 

"For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out." – **James Baldwin**

Kim stood by the bed and folded her towel carefully, edge to edge, until it formed a perfect rectangle with no overlapping or untidy sides. It wasn't that she was some kind of obsessive-compulsive; it was more that when she occupied herself in mindless tasks it stopped her from thinking about the bad stuff. This bad stuff lay on the outer edge of the sea of insanity and she was determined not to go there.

"Are you decent? Can I come in?" The welcome voice of Chief Knowles interrupted her folding. She turned and joyfully flung herself into his arms.

The Chief was understandably taken aback to find that one of the senior and most level-headed members of his usually orderly Orderly Room staff had suddenly turned into a limpet and was clinging tightly to him.

"Ah…Kim? Oxygen is becoming a huge issue here." He gently disengaged her arms from his shoulders, but did not release her hands. Instead he gently rubbed them and turned them over to examine the vicious scratch marks that had scored the soft skin. He made a soft sound of distress under his breath when he finally lifted her chin and saw the bruises and deep scratches down her cheeks as well. "Damn it Sergeant what the hell have you been doing to yourself?" He asked softly. "All I did was send you on a Fieldcraft Training exercise."

She hung her head. "Sorry Chief." The tears that were constantly on the verge of falling spilled unchecked down her cheeks and the overwhelming grief that had dogged her since that awful night finally overflowed.

He gently pulled her back into his arms and rocked her, as he would have one of his own daughters, stroking her hair and making soft reassuring noises all the while.

The figure of Gary Matthews appeared momentarily in the doorway and Knowles smiled at him over Kim's bent head.

"_I'll come back later."_ Gary mouthed and Knowles nodded.

After a few moments Kim lifted her head and Knowles handed her his clean handkerchief. She blew on it loudly and then tried to give it back to him. He chuckled and pushed her hand away. "No. It's all right, _really_. You keep it for now; give it back to me later, when it's been laundered. Well and truly!"

Kim gave a watery chuckle. "Oops. Sorry Chief, I wasn't thinking." She stuffed the offending damp article into the pocket of her combat trousers. She looked mournfully at Knowles. "I think they think that I murdered everyone." She said despondently. "There's even a copper outside the door in case I run amok and start on a bloodletting spree."

He glanced at the door in confusion. "Copper? Well there's nobody there at the moment, so they obviously don't think you're too much of a threat." He went to the door and looked both ways down the corridor, but all he could see was the Adjutant coming back in company with another man. He came in and shook his head. "Nope. No men in blue anywhere to be seen."

"Does that mean I'm free to go then?"

"Not quite." Inspector Alun Davis came into the room with the Adjutant. "The hospital still has to release you. However I am happy to say that forensics have ruled you out as the murderer and also that dagger as any kind of murder weapon. Not that I ever thought you were. However we would still like you to assist us in some further enquiries."

The relief on her face rapidly turned to consternation. "What sort of enquiries?"

"Well, if you're feeling up to it, we would like you to visit the crime scene area." He said matter-of-factly.

She paled. "But why? I thought you said I had been ruled out."

"Yes, you have, but there is still the matter of the ah…missing head."

"Mr Irwin's head." She said quietly.

Knowles listened to the conversation and watched Kim's reaction with narrowed eyes. She had taken the handkerchief out of her pocket and was crushing it convulsively and nervously in her hands. The idea of going back into those woods terrified her that much was plain to see.

"Yes." The Inspector smiled at her. "We really need to try to locate it, along with your weapon if possible. Can't have lethal implements lying around in the woods for some hiker or kids to find, can we? Or bits of body parts. Do you think you could retrace your steps back to where Mr Irwin died?"

She bit her lip. "I...I think so." She looked up at Gary as if to say 'Do I have to do this?' and he nodded reassuringly at her.

"Think of it as a duty to Mr Irwin and his family Sergeant." Gary said gently. "And losing your weapon is a chargeable offence in the British Army. You should know that more than anyone."

She flushed. "I didn't do it deliberately Sir."

"I know that. If I thought otherwise you'd have been brought up on a charge by now. There were extenuating circumstances. However now we need to retrieve it."

"Did you retrieve everyone else's weapon?" She asked.

Gary and the Inspector exchanged a speaking glance and the sudden cold certainty hit the Chief that they hadn't managed to retrieve the weapons. He looked at Kim to see if she had noticed the slight silence but she was staring down at the bed, so he decided to remain quiet and not ask the sixty-four million dollar question that was rattling around in his head.

"It's in hand Sergeant." Gary replied rather diffidently. He looked at his watch. "We can go out to the scene as soon as the hospital discharge you and after we've had some lunch. Is that okay Inspector?"

Davis nodded. "Sounds fine to me except that I'm needed back at the station. I'll send PC Moore back to go with you. He's a local lad, knows the area and woods like the back of his hand."

"Good, then let's get you discharged Sergeant. I'll go and see if they've sorted out the paperwork." Gary left the ward and was halfway down the corridor to the nurse's station when Chief Knowles caught up with him.

"Sir, is it all right if I come with you this afternoon?"

Gary stopped and stared at him. "I don't see why not Chief, you are her boss after all. In fact I think it would be a good thing if you did. She obviously trusts you and feels safe with you. Yes, do come." He said the last almost as though he was inviting the Chief to a tea party at Buck House with the Queen rather than on a gruesome expedition to find someone's severed head.

Knowles chuckled. "Thank you sir. I appreciate the confidence in me." He said dryly.

oOo

They travelled to the forest in the Chief's huge Mitsubishi Shogun with PC Moore trundling behind in his police car. They had travelled from Lydney and on through the village of Whitecroft where Kim had stumbled into after her flight from the forest.

She looked out of the window curiously to see if it seemed familiar, but she recognised nothing at all. Everything that had happened after she took to her heels and scrambled through the woods was a bit of a blur. She vaguely recalled dizzying bright lights and a man asking her questions, but apart from that there was nothing.

What was interesting for Gary and the Chief at least was the distance Kim must have covered that fateful evening. The minor road they took from Whitecroft into the forest proper ran for quite a few miles and passed through at least two other villages.

They pulled into the last village, which was called Parkend, and parked the vehicles up. Jim Moore got out of his police car and came over to the Shogun. "This is where we need to leave the cars. We could go a little further up the road, but the track we need to take doesn't have anywhere we could leave them. It's not far, perhaps a mile, mile and a half." He looked at Kim, obviously wondering if she was up to it physically.

Gary answered for her. "Sgt Freeman is a trained soldier Jim, she's used to hiking and getting on with it. That's what soldiers are supposed to do." His tone was mild, but underlain with a gentle admonition.

"Of course." Jim acknowledged and smiled at the pale young woman. To him she looked as fragile as a china doll, but he supposed that the military have to keep up appearances of being tough. "Shall we then?" He had already donned a pair of thick socks and heavy duty Wellington boots. He slipped into the familiar fluorescent yellow jacket with POLICE written on the back, checked his torch and radio and headed off down the road followed by three soldiers dressed in combat clothing.

Lace curtains twitched at cottage windows as the motley group walked past. The small village had already had a taste of notoriety with the comings and goings of the crime scene and forensics teams. There had even been TV cameras and the man from the BBC nine o'clock news in the village, but the authorities had so far been very tight-lipped about the goings on in the wood. This didn't stop the denizens of Parkend being curious though. For them, the only thing that made _this _little group slightly more acceptable was that they had a local Coleford boy with them, even if he was a copper.

Just as Jim Moore had said, they hadn't got more than about a mile along the small road when they stopped and he indicated a stile and a path that led into a thick clump of dark conifers.

"This is it." He said pointing at the path. "We head along here for another three miles and we should reach the crime scene. It's not too far from my village, which is Coleford. Beyond there is the A4136 which splits the Forest of Dean and runs all the way from Huntley to Monmouth which is the nearest large city and where the River Monnow joins up with the River Wye."

Gary turned to Kim. "You ran a hell of a long way Sergeant."

She gave him a wan, unenthusiastic smile. No matter how she tried she couldn't recall any details of her terror-filled flight, which was, perhaps, just as well under the circumstances. Now, standing at the edge of the dark clump of trees, she found that the idea of entering there again made her feel sick to her stomach.

Jim smiled. "Yes she did and the sad thing is that if she had run in the opposite direction she would have hit Coleford a lot faster than she did Whitecroft."

"And presumably if she had run forwards instead of back, she would have run straight into the arms of the killer or killers." The Chief put in quietly.

"Aye, there is that." Jim said sombrely. "Her instincts were probably right in the first place." He looked around at the three soldiers. "Everybody okay to go in?"

Gary glanced at Kim's deathly pale face and beckoned to the Chief. "Chief, if we let Jim go first because he knows the area then either you or I should go last. Keep Sgt Freeman in the middle."

The Chief nodded. "I'll be 'Tail-end Charlie' sir. You and Kim can be 'piggy-in-the-middle'"

Gary chuckled. "Dear heaven Chief, that takes me back a bit. I haven't played 'piggy-in-the-middle' for years, not since I was about seven."

"Ah." The Chief nodded sagely. "My speciality was 'knockie-nine-doors'. Never did like ball games. The old geezer at Number Fifty-One used to regularly chase me with his garden shears at the ready. Of course that was why we did it, for the excitement. It probably led to me joining up."

Gary gave a snort of laughter and followed Jim over the stile.

"After you." Chief bowed to Kim with exaggerated courtesy and ushered her over.

She gave him a ghost of a smile. "You trying to protect me Chief?"

He stared at her for a moment and then a mocking grin stretched his mouth. "Protect you? Not on your life Sergeant. I'm hoping that when they fire from the front you and the other two will be there to take the hits. It'll give me the chance to turn tail and run. I'm not daft." He tapped the side of his nose knowingly and was gratified when Kim gave the first giggle he had heard out of her all day.

oOo

It didn't matter that the sun was shining above the canopy of foliage, none of it managed to penetrate down to the forest floor, so it was a damp place smelling of moist dark earth, the musky scent of the wildflowers that could grow and the smell of pine sap.

Ferns and bracken were abundant on the ground, as were walls of thorn thickets similar to the one Kim had lain in on her previous visit. The forest was also eerily silent except for the occasional furtive rustle in the undergrowth. No birds sang and any sounds from the modern world outside were non-existent. Even a light aircraft flying high above them failed to make its presence felt.

The deathly silence and the damp vegetation had different effects on all of them. Chief was immediately taken back to the jungles of Papua New Guinea. Although the foliage was by no means exotic jungle fare, the closeness and stillness aroused his alert system. There was something here. What kind of something he wasn't sure, but it was here and it was watching them.

Gary recollected summer holidays spent in the New Forest in Hampshire with his family. He and his brother thought that they had got lost one hot summer's day and were close to the verge of panic as they stumbled frantically through the trees and hit the campsite, only to find that they had been running in circles. However the sombre stillness of this ancient conifer wood with its occasional spreading oak made him recall how threatened he had felt when he didn't recognise anything familiar. He felt an odd prickle on the back of his neck and got the fleeting impression of someone looking at him, but when he glanced at the others Kim had her head bent and the Chief was looking closely at the trees on his left. He dismissed it as fanciful and trudged on.

Jim Moore had grown up and played, both as a child and a young teenager in these woods. Nearly every tree was an old friend and although he acknowledged that the place was quieter than it usually was and there was an absence of animals, like the fallow deer that often wandered through looking for forage, it still seemed like a friendly place to him.

Kim was almost stiff with fear. She tried to tell herself that they would be fine, but the same oppressive stillness that had lain over the forest that late afternoon clogged the very air. The atmosphere around her felt electric and her heart was beating far too fast. The whole stupid place had eyes. Eyes that glittered like obsidian in nasty brutal faces, but that could see for long distances. She shuddered and crossed her arms protectively around her chest.

Jim stopped and held his hand up. So did Gary, however Kim who was walking with her head down smacked into his back and bumped her nose. "Ow! Oops, sorry Sir." She smiled apologetically at Gary who had turned around. "Why have we stopped?"

Gary pointed at the fox that was currently crossing the path. The fox had also stopped and stared suspiciously at this human intrusion into his domain, but since they all remained quite still he obviously assumed that they meant him no harm. He trotted on into the bracken and ferns on the other side of the path and disappeared from view.

"That's the first sign of life we've seen in here since we entered." Jim said softly. "It's very strange, usually there's a lot of wild life activity."

"Perhaps something spooked them." Chief commented.

"Or someone." Kim shivered again.

"Or perhaps it's just the fact that we're all aware that something very nasty happened here in the very recent past?" Gary said in practical tones. "It's called hyper-vigilence, you were in Papua weren't you Chief? You should remember how twitchy the blokes on patrol got after a while."

"I do, sir. I remember it well, and at the risk of making everyone uneasy, I've had the same feeling in here that I used to get there. As if someone is watching me."

"Well whatever it is, the crime scene is just past that group of young oaks ahead." Jim pointed in front of them.

Gary turned to Kim. "Recognise anything yet Sergeant?"

She looked around at her surroundings and frowned in concentration. Finally she shook her head. "I'm not sure sir. I don't think I was this close to where they were setting the camp up. The noises sounded to me like they were coming from my left, but Mr Irwin." She hesitated over his name a little. "Well he and that thing came from almost directly in front of me, but then I had stopped to..." She stopped with a flustered look on her face.

"Why did you stop?" Gary persisted gently.

"I…oh...bloody Nora, I stopped to pee, okay? I needed to pee. I found a convenient bush; so I may not have been facing the same way I was before and Mr Irwin and that thing could well have come from my left. From the direction of the campsite."

"We all need to pee at some stage Sergeant." Gary said with a smile. "Even me."

Chief let out a bark of laughter. "And here was me thinking that officers didn't do mundane things like that." Gary raised his eyebrow and the Chief chuckled. "Sorry sir, I take it back. Officers _are _human beings after all. Who knew?"

Gary grinned at him. "I forgive you Chief. I think officers stop seeing to the call of nature when they get to Major General or Field Marshal. I still have quite a way to go before I get that privilege!" He turned to Kim again. "And the dagger, where was that in relation to your bush?"

She blushed furiously. "It wasn't exactly _my _bush sir. It was near the bush, half buried in the soil. I was digging it out when I noticed the sounds had stopped, then they came, crashing through the woods. Mr Irwin looked half crazy or terrified and he was covered in blood. When he saw me he grabbed me by the arm and threw me into a row of thick bushes. He told me to stay down and then that awful sound came." In her mind's eye she saw the instructor falter again and then drop to his knees in front of her. With difficulty she jerked herself back to the present. "Then he died and that thing came out of the trees and chopped his head off. It picked his body up and it threw the head into the bushes where I was lying. _I saw his eyes." _Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "Oh god I saw his eyes."

Chief put his arm around her and she clung to him like a child after a nightmare. "I think that's enough for the moment sir." He said calmly. He met Gary's gaze with a slight challenge in his own.

"I agree." Gary said quietly. "Take a few moments Sergeant and then we must crack on. I really don't want to be wandering around here in the dark."

She straightened up. "I'm all right sir, really I am. It's just that I keep seeing his eyes."

"I know you do, but the best thing to do is to talk about it. Try not to push it down too deep." He looked at Jim who was standing quietly to one side. "You said the campsite was straight on?"

"Yes. Straight ahead past those trees." He pointed again.

"Okay troops, let move out." Gary started to walk towards the trees, followed by the others. They hadn't got more than a few yards when Kim let out a cry.

"There!" She pointed at one large girthed oak. "I sat there and sorted my blisters out." She ran over to the tree and picked up something small and white. "The wrappings from the plasters. Here they are. I got up and went in the direction of the noises." She said triumphantly.

They all stood and looked at the tree, then as one they glanced at the clump of trees. The yellow crime scene tape could be clearly seen now. Kim saw the puzzled looks of her companions as they glanced from the tree to the campsite.

"What's wrong?" She faltered.

"It's nothing love." Chief soothed. "You were just closer to the camp than you realised."

Jim was pale. "Damn, she had a narrow escape. She must have misjudged the direction the sounds were coming from. In actuality the Sergeant walked _away _from the campsite, not towards it. Blimey. Come to think on it, there is a clearing about a quarter of a mile away, which is used by hikers to pitch camp. They're not supposed to start fires, but they do anyway."

"Well let's head over there." Gary said quietly.

As they walked Kim began to get her bearings. Halfway along the path she stopped and bent down. When she stood up she had a Mars Bar wrapper in her hand. "That was mine."

Three pairs of eyebrows raised. "Whatever happened to the Country Code Sergeant?" Gary asked.

"I was hungry!" She protested and then blushed again. "I should have put the wrapper in my pocket, but if I had then we wouldn't have known we were on the right path would we?" She gazed at them triumphantly.

"I suppose I can think of worse things to follow than a paper trail of chocolate bar wrappers." Chief said dryly.

"There was only one Mars Bar." Kim replied loftily.

Jim had scouted on ahead. "I've found something." He called.

They saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out some plastic gloves and a large green coloured baggie. Kim looked up at Gary who smiled reassuringly at her.

"What is it Jim?"

"I would suggest that you don't let the young lady come any closer." Warned Jim. Kim saw him put something carefully in the large bag and firmly zip it up. None of them needed to be told that one of their objectives at least had been achieved.

oOo


	6. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead Don...

Disclaimer: See Chapter 2 

Phantom Bard: I **will** answer your email, thank you for the links they will be a wonderful help!

Chapter 5 – Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend. 

"There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution."

**Oscar Wilde**, **The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891**

"What do you think it is?"

"Truthfully, I have no idea at all."

"Maybe we should pick it up."

"_You _pick it up then. For all _we_ know it is some fiendish device of the enemy."

"I think that we should take it to Lord Gil-galad and Lord Cirdan."

Three elves dressed in bright mail and long cloaks stood staring down at the object lying innocently in the soft bracken and long grass.

"Oh for the Valar's sake." An elf with the typical black hair and grey eyes of the Noldor swung his cloak off his shoulders and over the offending object.

"Be careful Master Erestor. We don't know what it is or where it came from. It could be something that the enemy has bewitched and left for us to take." Another elf with long guinea gold hair cautioned.

Erestor hunkered down and passed his hand lightly over the now covered object. "I sense nothing evil here Lord Glorfindel. It has no awareness of any kind."

"Nevertheless. Please be careful. I don't want to have to explain to the King that I lost one of his senior advisors because he got transported to Thangorodrim by means of some enchantment."

"Enchantment?" Erestor rolled his eyes in exasperation, grasped the article using the cloak as a barrier just in case and picked it up. He turned the bundle over and examined the subject of the conversation which now nestled, with seeming innocence, in amongst the rich folds of black material Whatever it was, it was quite heavy and made of some kind of dark grey metal along with another lighter feeling, green coloured material that he did not recognise. He frowned deeply and fingered the metal. "I think, but am not sure, that it might be a weapon of some kind."

Gildor Inglorion bent over to see. He reached out and touched it with a tentative finger. "I think you might be right. See how this is positioned for a hand to fit around?" He slid his hand around the green grip and his index finger automatically moved to the trigger-like mechanism.

A loud, sharp intake of breath could be heard from the other two Elves followed by a ghastly silence as he did so.

Erestor went paler than usual if that was possible. "Gildor, I really don't think you should…"

A sharp business-like click snapped through the still air and all three elves flinched.

"Too late." He sighed as Gildor guiltily drew his hand away.

"That green material feels very strange. It is warm to the touch, not like the other parts, which are cold." Gildor said. He examined his finger closely just to make sure that it wasn't disappearing or growing smaller or something equally dreadful.

Glorfindel held out his hand for the item and Erestor surrendered it with some relief. He turned it over in both hands and weighed it speculatively. "Quite heavy and looks as if it could be broken into many parts, possibly for cleaning. It has some kind of writing on the end of it, but it is in no language that I recognise. Not even as the tongue of the enemy." His golden brows knitted together in a frown. "I would say that this is definitely a weapon of some kind, but I have never seen its like before. It has no blade but there is an opening here where perhaps a blade of some kind would fit." He slid a slender finger in the magazine housing of the SA80A2 Assault Rifle, although of course _he_ did not know that this was what the object was.

Kim Freeman could have identified it as hers immediately from the red number painted on the butt of the weapon.

"The long cylinder is hollow." Gildor pointed out. "It could be a means of propelling arrows, but they would have to be very small, thin arrows. Perhaps the opening is not for a blade, but to push the arrows through."

"There does not seem to be any kind of means of propelling an arrow." Erestor objected.

"Whatever it's purpose, it is not an Elven weapon, nor do I believe that any of the Edain would be able to manufacture such a thing, it is too intricate. It has to be a weapon of Morgoth, made in his deep foundries perhaps." Glorfindel wrapped the cloak securely around the gun and tied the bundle with a piece of thin silver rope. "We will take this to Lord Gil-galad and let him decide what to do with it. Perhaps Lord Celebrimbor will be able to strip it down and discover its true purpose." He glanced around the rapidly darkening forest. "I think it would be best not to tarry here. This place has a fell air to it. Blood has been spilled here." He pointed to some barely visible dark brown stains on the grass."

Gildor inspected the stains. "Aye, it is blood. I hope it isn't Ingwion's brother." He stared into the gloom of the trees and shivered slightly. "This forest has eyes and not friendly ones at that. Let us away back to the camp."

They mounted their horses and rode back along the path to where the encampment of Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in exile was situated at the edge of the forest. They rode cautiously despite an overwhelming and unnerving desire to break into a gallop. The oppressive atmosphere of the forest and the idea that they were being watched meant that it was an uneasy group that finally urged their steeds to go faster once they had broken through the trees.

oOo

WO2 Chief Knowles stared around the clearing and then back at the charred remains of a fire in the centre. He scratched his head. "If Bob Irwin was killed here." He pointed to the dark stains still crusting the bracken. "And his head was chucked over there." He pointed to the thorn thicket that loomed over on the right. "Then how did his head get that far back along the path?"

Jim Moore stood up from where he and Gary Matthews had been examining the spot where Kim had stated the dagger had been half-buried. "Animals most likely." He said sagely and glanced over to where Kim was half-heartedly searching among the trees for her errant weapon. He lowered his voice to be certain she couldn't hear him. "The…er…item isn't in very good condition. Something tried to gnaw some of the flesh off it, the eyes were all but gone and the maggots were pretty much in evidence."

"Probably that fox we saw earlier. Or some birds." Gary stood up and wiped his grimy hands on a tissue. "Well there's nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary down here." He glanced over in Kim's direction. "Any luck with the weapon Sergeant?"

She shook her head. This was beginning to be the perfect end to a perfect nightmare. Not only had she witnessed a horrific murder, she was now probably going to be up on a charge for being negligent with her weapon. She sat down disconsolately on a tree stump. "I can't see it anywhere sir. Maybe that thing came back and took it."

"I think if we fan out and do a proper search of the area, police search style, we might have better luck." Jim suggested.

"Good idea." Gary beckoned to Kim. "Come over Sergeant, we need to do a systematic search of the area."

The Chief eyed Gary askance for a moment and frowned slightly. This was police business, not military. Kim's weapon wasn't just a lost weapon, but evidence in a murder investigation. Why on earth was Matthews instigating this search himself? Why weren't they just going back to Lydney and reporting back to that Inspector chap so that he could organise a proper search?

There were too many questions and not enough answers. Matthews knew something for sure, although he wasn't too sure whether the young police constable did. It was completely obvious that the weapons of the murdered trainees and any that the Staff Instructors had been carrying were also missing. _Someone _had taken them for sure. They had attacked the group, killed them and taken the weapons, so why was there no full blown terrorist alert going on? Another question that he had a feeling young Major Matthews would do his best to avoid answering.

He tried to recall what he knew about Major Gary Matthews and came up with very little. The man had been very recently posted in from HQ 4 Division, but his F1 and FMed4 records hadn't arrived. Since these went first to the Chief Clerk of the receiving unit as a matter of course before the arrival of the soldier who was being posted into the unit, he normally would have known about Matthews before anyone else did.

He found himself surreptitiously observing the new Adjutant as Jim Moore explained the strategy behind police searches and formed them into a line at the edge of the search area. The policeman had already mapped the area out into sections. He got to the part where he was explaining about it being on hands and knees for some of the search when Gary interrupted.

"I hope you realise that my ancient knees aren't quite up to crawling around in the grass. You might have to help me to stand back up." Gary caught the Chief staring speculatively at him and winked.

Even the Chief Clerk had been aware of the flurry of female interest when young Major Matthews had arrived in camp rather unexpectedly at eight o'clock one Monday morning two weeks earlier without any kind of forewarning from Divisional HQ. He didn't actually get to see what all the fuss was about until the new Adjutant arrived in the Orderly Room with his orders. Even then Knowles was baffled at the hormonal reaction of his female staff, all except for Kim Freeman who happened to have had the day off that day.

The new officer was a very handsome man to be sure, if a person's fancy ran to tall men with even features, superb physiques, warm dark blue eyes and beautiful smiles. Otherwise there was nothing special about him at all. His hair was cropped short military style and brown in colour but he did admittedly have an air of mystery and knowledge about him, as if he knew something nobody else did.

Knowles imagined that this could go down very well with the ladies, but it would have little effect on the male population. Especially on him. However as the days had worn on, it seemed that he also had a rather nice sense of humour and down to earth attitude that everyone appreciated. He was good with the other ranks and didn't talk down to them like so many other officer types did, so Knowles had gradually got over his initial suspicions and started to like him.

Unfortunately with this incident, some of Knowles' original reservations had come flooding back.

Gary could feel the questions fermenting inside the older man. He hoped against hope that they wouldn't suddenly erupt before he had completed his objective, which was to find the remaining missing weapon. He knew for sure that the others were in the wrong hands; he also knew that his orders were crystal clear. These weapons had to be retrieved as soon as possible and returned to their correct owners.

Unfortunately, how he was to achieve this was less clear.

He looked along their rather short line up to where Kim was standing. She was suffering some terrible guilt and self-reproach; he could see it written all over her face. Part of him wanted to go over, put his arms around her and try to reassure her, but he knew that it wasn't the appropriate thing to do. The Chief doing it was a different matter entirely. He was her boss and a virtual father figure; he was also closer to her in rank and much closer to her socially. Gary knew that anything he did with Kim Freeman would be misconstrued so he willingly allowed Knowles to take charge where she was concerned.

However one thing he would most definitely take his boss to task for was this grovelling around in the bushes and bracken and at some stage he would also have to have a conversation with Knowles about young Miss Freeman.

"Gentlemen, lady, if you're ready, I think we should do this. Time is getting on and once the sun goes in, what little light we do have will be gone." Jim cocked an eye at the group and they all nodded

oOo

Chief kept an eye on Kim as she grovelled through the grass like everyone else. She was looking quite pale and distressed. Her eyes seemed to have shrunk into her head and there were purple shadows under them. Every so often she would stop in the search and just kneel there head bent in palpable despair.

_Survivor guilt._ He thought to himself. _And the worry about losing the weapon_. He silently sent a thousand curses down on both his own and Gary Matthew's heads. His because he had gaily sent her on the damn stupid course to start with and Matthews because he insisted on putting her through this ridiculous and pointless search without adequate reassurance that at the end of it her career wouldn't suffer. Kim had a flawless military record, losing a weapon could mean a courts martial. He knew she was visualising being drummed out of the army in shame and resolved to have a few straight words with the good Major before the night was through.

Events have a way, however, of changing resolutions, promises and even threats. Something was coming. Something nobody could have foreseen or even dreamt of.

oOo

They had covered perhaps only half of the ground area when the light began to fail. The sun which had dappled through the trees during the afternoon, giving a dim light at least, had now almost sunk below the horizon. Shortly dusk would fall and then they would lose light altogether.

The Chief got to his feet and brushed what felt like half the forest floor off the knees of his combat trousers. Kim also stood and placed her hands on her aching back.

"Sir."

Gary turned. "What is it Chief?" Although he had a good idea what was coming next. In fact he'd been waiting for the Chief Clerk to say something for the past ten minutes.

"I think we need to call it a day and let the police do a proper search tomorrow. The daylight is almost gone and Sgt Freeman is all in. She needs to go back and get some proper rest in a real bed, not a hospital cot."

Gary nodded and glanced at Kim who stared back at him in trepidation. "I agree Chief. I must apologise for getting carried away. I thought that if we could find the weapon it would save Sgt Freeman some worry."

"Very commendable sir, but I doubt that we're going to find it now…"

He was interrupted by the excited voice of Jim Moore. "I think I've found something!"

The burst of hope in Kim's eyes was snuffed out when she saw that Jim was holding not her SA80, but one of the two magazines she had been carrying. She now recalled the contents of one of her webbing pouches spilling out as she fell to the ground as a result of being pushed by the instructor.

"It's mine." She said miserably. "Stuff fell out of my webbing when I fell in the bushes. I didn't stop to pick it up." She turned to Gary and he could see tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry sir, I should have done better I know that."

Gary was silent and the Chief tried to will him to speak, reassure her, even give her a bollocking, but he said nothing. The frustration rose up in Knowles to the point where his hand balled into fist. Finally Gary broke the silence. "Chief, would you and Constable Moore check the number of rounds in the magazine for me please? See how many are missing and if there are any lying around. Sergeant Freeman let's have a little private talk shall we?"

She gnawed at her bottom lip and nodded. Gary led her in the direction of the thicket where she had lain a couple of days earlier and feared for her life. She stood with her head hanging. Gary regarded her quietly for a moment, then he spoke in a tone she immediately recognised.

"Come to attention when an officer addresses you Sergeant Freeman!"

She looked up at him in shock. He'd been quite gentle up until now and it had lulled her into a false sense of familiarity with him. She came to attention smartly, chin lifted.

" Is this the way the Senior Non-Commissioned Officers from this unit behave? I was led to believe that you were a well-trained disciplined soldier. Perhaps they were wrong about you." He bent over and stared directly into her eyes. She was instantly transported back to her recruit training. "Well Sergeant?" He persisted, not showing even a glimmer of the sympathy he undoubtedly felt inside or a smile.

"No sir, I mean yes sir. We don't behave badly sir and I am a disciplined soldier. Sir."

A low growling rumble sounded in the distance and a slight breeze whipped up, causing the leaves to rustle loudly but as soon as it had sprung up, it died down again.

He just kept staring at her and she kept staring straight forward and through him as if she was on parade and he was the inspecting officer. Beads of sweat had sprung out on her brow.

"Christ, he's being a bit hard on her isn't he?" Jim muttered.

The Chief shook his head. "No. He's not being hard, he's reminding her of who and what she is. A professional soldier. One thing you don't do is tell a soldier to pull himself or herself together in a difficult situation. You do what _he's_ doing, you remind them of duty and what being a soldier is. You remind them of the pride they should have in themselves."

A slight reverberation rippled under their feet and they both looked down at the ground at the same time..

"What the fuck was that?" Jim looked as puzzled as the Chief felt.

"If I didn't know we were in England, I would say that it felt like an earth tremor." Chief said with a worried tone in his voice. He glanced around the clearing. "It's gone very quiet again and the air feels too heavy. There was a bit of birdsong earlier, now it's gone." He looked over to where Gary and Kim were standing, apparently oblivious to the movements in the earth under their feet. "Sir, I think we need to leave. Now. Something strange is happening."

Both heads snapped around to look at him. At the same time, the rumbling noise had turned into an cracking noise which grew until it almost reached a shriek. It sounded to all of them as if the very earth was screaming in agony.

Jim grabbed his arm. "Oh for fuck's sake Chief. Look."

Chief followed his trembling finger and saw to his utter horror that the ground in front of them was beginning to split. As the fissure ran along the forest floor towards them it grew wider and wider and took loose earth, branches and small bushes with it. By the time it was only about ten feet away from the two horrified men, whole trees were tumbling into the huge chasm created by the sundering of the earth.

Gary grabbed Kim by the arm and tried to pull her to him, but even as he did so there was a tremendous cracking sound. The ground literally exploded just behind her covering them both in a mixture of soil, twigs and leaves and to his utter horror she was pulled away from him as if by invisible arms and began to fall down the fissure that had opened up behind her. With one desperate effort he threw himself forward and managed to grab onto one of her hands. She slid a little further down and all he could see was her white terrified face staring back up at him. The worst of it was that she hadn't made a sound through the whole thing.

He flung himself flat on the ground and held on to her hand with all of his strength and in turn she gripped his wrist so tightly that her nails were cutting into his skin. He winced with the pain, but did not let go. "Hold on." He yelled above the noise of an earth in pain. "Whatever you do, don't let go of me."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Chief and Jim crouched on the narrow island created by the two now huge fissures. They were clutching onto each other as the ground rocked, shivered, shook and raged underneath them. After what seemed like many minutes but was probably only seconds the earth started to settle. Gradually the rumbling deep in the ground lessened until it had stopped altogether and an almost deafening silence spread over the area.

Gary reached down and held out his other hand. "Take my hand Kim. Reach up as hard as you can and take it."

"I'm too heavy." She whispered. "I'm too tired and my arms hurt." Tears started to roll down her dirt-smeared cheeks making clean tracks in their wake.

"Don't you _dare_ give up like that." He hissed in fury, and she glanced up at him in surprise and shock. "I don't want to hear it, not from you. You are better than that. Now take my fucking hand and hold on. I will pull you up and you don't weigh anything at all. Enough with the self-pity and self-reproach. You are going to survive this. _We _are going to survive this."

With a sob of effort she reached up and managed to get a purchase on his hands and he slowly began to pull her up. When she was almost at the top she managed to get a foothold on a thick tree root that had been exposed by the earthquake and hurled herself forward into his arms. Her momentum sent him staggering backwards with her lying to one side of him on her stomach; that's when he heard a sound that he recognised immediately. Acting entirely by instinct he wrapped his arms around her and rolled to one side taking her with him.

They both heard three soft thuds in the tree that had been behind them as they had lain in the dirt only seconds earlier and they turned to look.

Three thick black arrows with ebony coloured fletching were protruding from the tree trunk. They had been driven forcefully more than halfway into the wood and still shivered with the impact.

oOo


	7. Where’s that Yellow Brick Road when you ...

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers:**

**Phantom Bard**: I **will** answer your mail, my usual computer system just developed irrecoverable faults on the motherboard and I've had to drag my older computer out of mothballs!

**Ellfwine**: Thank you so much for your kind comments. I just realised that you are the author of the Earwen and Finarfin fic that I read on another archive. I liked that very much. I thought you captured Earwen's hopes and yet her underlying knowledge that her husband would return alone beautifully. Very sensitively written.

And so, onto the next part of my saga…

**Chapter 7 – Where's that Yellow Brick Road when you really need it Dorothy?**

"The most dangerous thing in a combat zone is an officer with a map!"

**Murphy's Military Laws**

**Year 553, The First Age, The forest of Nan-Tathren, West Beleriand**

The SA80A2 had become an object of fascination, fear and trepidation. Ereinion Gil-galad sat on a tree stump in his campsite and gazed in turn at the other members of this council of war.

Erestor looked long-suffering, as he always did, Gildor was lounging half propped on his side chewing on a piece of long grass, Lord Celeborn was seated cross-legged across from Ereinion, his silver-grey eyes riveted to the objection under discussion and Cirdan was seated on a fallen tree trunk looking as imperturbable and inscrutable as he always did. The only sign Ereinion could find that the situation worried Cirdan was the fact that he was stroking his close-cut silver bearded chin.

Glorfindel alone appeared to be remarkably calm about their find. The ill feeling in the wood and the warning in the trees themselves that danger was nigh was worrying him much more than their strange discovery and he had told Ereinion so in direct terms when they had reported back from their scouting mission. Ereinion was hugely inclined to agree with him because that threat was closer at hand, but the object could not be ignored. If it was some device or weapon of the enemy then they needed to find out its nature and how it might be overcome. The very outcome of a battle and indeed the war might depend on it.

One other was present at the council, Celebrimbor Curufinion, the only Feanorian with Ereinion's force. Grandson of the notorious Feanor of Silmarils fame, he was tainted by the oath sworn by his blood relatives even though he was not present at its swearing. It had continued to taint his life even despite his repudiation of his father's deeds. Being who he was, he was tolerated at best by most in the group, but Ereinion, ever the diplomat and kind-hearted person he was, had banned any direct acts of prejudice against him and given him his favour.

Besides which, he was the was one of the great Elven artificers and therefore was of great use to Ereinion.

Tall, slim and dark haired with luminous, almost charcoal grey eyes, Celebrimbor had some of the fire of his grandsire, although a trifle muted, and even some of Feanor's desires, including being desiring of the attention of Finarfin's daughter and Celeborn of Doriath's wife, Artanis, or Galadriel as Celeborn had named her. His slender form belied the whipcord strength and sheer physical power of one who spent his days in the forge heaving metal around amongst other more delicate tasks.

Many folk who had been acquainted with his grandsire looked into the eyes of Telperinquar(1), the 'Silver Fist', and saw the passion of Feanor lurking in their depths, but so far he had avoided any of the dire trouble that followed his uncles Maglor and Maedhros around. Instead he clung to the outskirts of the somewhat stifling Noldorin exiles' society gaining a token acceptance even whilst he dreamt of greater and better things.

Currently that slender form was lounging up against a leaning conifer, his eyes gleaming bright with interest at this unexpected bounty laid before him. He had none of the fear or trepidation that had clutched the others around their hearts, instead his callused hands itched to touch the thing.

Like Erestor he sensed no danger from it, not as an entity in its own right, but that it could be dangerous, he would have readily believed. The cold functionality of it, the business-like sound it made when Glorfindel had cautiously pulled that fascinating trigger mechanism had gripped him with a fever that he could not abate. It was all he could do to lounge nonchalantly and not grab it like some opportunist thief and run away with it to a hideaway to discover its wonderful secrets. It was this avid curiosity to learn about new things that would ultimately destroy him hundreds of years later.

However, he now waited patiently, his expression non-committal and even laconic, a casualness that only the light in his eyes betrayed.

Ereinion's piercing gaze finally rested on the Elven smith. He gave a wry smile as he saw the eagerness in Celebrimbor's eyes and sighed. "Lord Celebrimbor you have been quiet, what say you? Is Glorfindel correct, is it a weapon of some kind? And if so, is this the work of Morgoth?" He laid his strong, square capable hands on the metal of the object. "I sense nothing evil from it, but can evil be done with it? My heart tells me this is so. What say _you_?"

The smith levered himself from his lounging position and squatted beside the object, which was still lying in the folds of Erestor's cloak. He reached out and picked it up, but was aware of the collective held breaths of all present. It had a solid feel to it, but was surprisingly light. He noted the thin wide gap where, any modern soldier could have told him, a magazine would have fitted snugly, snapping into place with the same unmistakable, but lethal sound that all modern weaponry seems to have.

He reached for the cocking mechanism, a small bolt, and drew it back with a short _snick_, noting that if he drew it all the way back it would lock in place.

_Cocked, locked and ready to rock._ The phrase popped into his head from out of the blue and startled him slightly. Where had that come from? The first frisson of unease shivered down the back of his neck but was soon overtaken by his insatiable curiosity with this thing.

The collective breath exhaled at the same time.

"What did you do?" Ereinion asked in fascination.

"I believe that there are a series of mechanisms within this object that allow certain things to happen sequentially." He pressed the trigger and the moving parts inside were released with a dull thunking noise. Everyone drew back in unease and mild shock, but he ignored them. "What those things might be I cannot tell without stripping it down into its component parts." Celebrimbor did not look at the King while he answered, he was too busy peering into the innards and down the barrel. "You need to let me look at it properly."

Ereinion looked thoughtful. "I am happy to let you do that, but in truth we have no time to wait while you do. I fear Lord Glorfindel is right. There is a great shadow over these woods and it is growing all the while we sit here in debate. I wish to reach the rearguard of the Army of the West without delay and they are far ahead of us, therefore we must press on." He glanced around at the others who were looking at him with a mixture of consternation and doubt on their faces, especially Celeborn who didn't trust Celebrimbor as far as he could throw him. "Take it with you. Do what you can with it and then give me a full report."

Celebrimbor beamed in pleasure and was unable to prevent himself giving Celeborn a look of mild triumph.

Celeborn managed to turn a slightly disgusted snort into a cough at the last minute. He stood up and flexed his legs. "I take it we will make a start as dawn breaks." He said shortly. "I will get at least a couple of hours of rest."

"Good idea." Cirdan said. "I believe I will do likewise, and so should you Ereinion." He gave his former charge a stern look and jerked his head towards where his and the King's bedrolls were.

Ereinion sighed inwardly. His decision would never have been accepted by all no matter what that decision was, but neither Celeborn nor Cirdan had the knowledge to do what Celebrimbor would do so thoroughly. He hated the divisions between the various Elven groups on Arda. He hated the quiet insidious comments that often followed the smith around and tried his best to offset them by showing how much he liked and respected Celebrimbor. And in fact it was no mere show of respect and liking, Ereinion genuinely liked the quietly passionate Elf and wished him well.

He stood up and gave Cirdan a winsome smile. "You are right Cirdan, as ever." He turned to Glorfindel who was Captain of the Watch. "We move as dawn breaks, see to it that all are told and set the watch."

Glorfindel bowed gracefully, hand over his heart. "It shall be done my Lord King." He disappeared between the trees to take up his appointed duties and everyone else dispersed.

Ereinion rolled himself in his blankets, fashioned a pillow for himself with his blue cloak and Cirdan followed suit. They had been quiet only a few minutes and Ereinion had begun to fall into the reverie of Elven sleep when the Shipwright's gruff voice interrupted it.

"I hope you know what you're doing lad."

Ereinion rolled over to face him. "Do you mistrust Celebrimbor?" His eyebrows were arched in surprise and not a little curiosity. The dour, dry-tongued Shipwright seldom spoke sourly of others.

"Celebrimbor?" Cirdan sounded just as surprised. "No of course not. What gave you that idea? I meant that thing. Perhaps we would do better to either melt it down or break it into a thousand pieces. It may not feel evil, but as you said earlier I sense evil can be achieved with it. If we keep it amongst us there will be tears before suppertime."

Ereinion huffed another sigh. Sometimes he felt that if there was a high honour and a prize for sighing he should have won it years ago, it was all he ever seemed to do. Just once he would have liked to have gone somewhere and done something without the myriad of complications that kept springing up beneath his feet. Not the least of which were ancient Elf Lords like Celeborn who by their very presence and demeanour constantly reminded him that many considered him to be nothing but a young Noldo upstart. "Perhaps you are right, but think on this. If this is some device of Morgoth and it is dangerous and there are more of them, do you not think we should be aware and at least make Lord Eonwe aware of it? We cannot achieve that without making an in depth examination of it."

"I didn't say you'd made the wrong decision Ereinion. When I said that I hoped you knew what you were doing, I just meant that I hoped you knew what the ramifications of that decision might be." Cirdan replied dryly. "Let Celebrimbor look at it, he is by far the best person for the job and I suppose it can do no harm. In any case it will be easier to destroy when it is in little pieces, will it not?"

He finished with a flash of humour that made Ereinion chuckle. "Tears before suppertime." He mused. "You haven't said that to me in a long while. Not since I was an elfling."

Cirdan turned over and punched his bunched cloak to try and make it more comfortable. "Ah well. The die is cast now is it not? And you are an elfling no longer." _If you ever were in the first place_. He thought but did not say out loud. "You must make your presence and authority felt by all Ereinion. You are the High King now, by right of succession. Others may be older and far wiser, but they are _not_ the King. "

"I suppose so." Ereinion settled back and tried to ignore the soft warning whisperings of the trees above them.

oOo

For a moment Gary and Kim clung onto each other as though their lives depended on it. A further arrow whizzed through the air and sank into the dirt beside Gary's ear. He swore softly and scrambled to his feet lifting Kim up with him, whilst looking around wildly for cover. Grabbing Kim by the arm, he unceremoniously dragged her behind an oak tree with a very thick girth then he pushed her down flat and covered her body with his.

In the meantime the Chief and Jim had realised that they were under fire.

"Get down, get down, get down!" Knowles howled in the loudest voice he could muster which, of course, only drew the attention of their attackers from Gary and Kim to them. Seeing no real cover nearby all the Chief and Jim could do was make the smallest target out of themselves that they could by lying flat in the fairly long bracken. Even so, Gary could see from where he and Kim were lying that there was a bright fluorescent yellow hump in the grass.

So could their attackers.

A further two arrows spun through the air and spat into the bracken, one harmlessly fell a foot away from Jim but the other one pierced the corner of the sleeve of the yellow jacket and firmly pinned it to the earth.

The fact that all of this took place in a rather eerie silence seemed utterly incongruous to the Chief. The only other thing that broke it, apart from the sound of the arrows winging their way in their direction, was the panic-stricken heavy, ragged breathing of the young policeman.

Knowles ventured to raise his head slightly and saw Jim frantically trying to free himself. "Leave it!" He hissed. "Can you try to get out of the jacket and roll over towards me?"

Jim's head bobbed up and down in agitation as he tried to comply and Chief could see that his eyes were wide with terror. As well they might be considering that all someone had to do was to paint a huge red ring on him and the bow-men across the fissure would probably get a bullseye.

The Chief let out a spurt of laughter when he saw Jim manage to get the jacket halfway down his arms, but couldn't free his hands without moving them and attracting more arrows. The jacket was now around his waist and hips. He tried to move surreptitiously so he could wiggle the jacket off his hands and fling it to one side, but that movement raised him up slightly so that all that anyone could see was a yellow hump sticking out of the grass. Knowles couldn't control his giggles which erupted causing the bracken to shake suspiciously. He knew it was partly nervous reaction to being under fire and partly because he found the idea of being pinned down and watching a bright yellow bobbing arse getting shot at truly hilarious.

Gary watched the pantomime from behind the tree with Kim and let out a soft groan of exasperation. "What the fuck does he think he's doing? Lie still Jim." He called over. "Lie as flat as you possibly can and stop struggling, you're making more of a target of yourself by jiggling about."

Kim was much more fascinated by the scene across the fissure than she was the antics of Jim Moore.

"It's them." She breathed. "It's that thing and more of them. They're going to kill us. We're like sitting ducks."

Gary immediately turned to her and put one finger against her lips. "Shut up Sergeant. I don't want to hear that kind of talk from you. They are not going to kill us. For one thing, the arrows aren't long enough to get through the tree trunk. We just need to stay put for the moment, so I can think."

Her eyes swivelled in the direction of Jim, who was now lying flat. The sound of him panting from his exertions was loud in the silence. Gary followed her look and pursed his lips. "Well at least the only part of him they can shoot now is his bum. I think we can manage to take a couple of arrows out of that, once I've figured a way out of this."

She tried to keep the giggles in, she really did, but they kept coming out in spurts until she was breathless. Gary thought she might be hysterical and considered slapping her face to bring her out of it, but then he saw the funny side and started to laugh as well. This in turn triggered the Chief off again.

"Oh _great_." Jim's affronted and plaintive voice floated over from the yellow hump. "That's right, bloody have a good laugh at someone else's misfortunes. It's all right for you lot, you're all dressed in fucking camouflage. I look like a huge fucking canary."

Whoops of laughter greeted this litany of complaints and the more they tried to stop, the harder they laughed.

oOo

The activity across the fissure stopped abruptly. At the sound of the laughter, the large creature that had decapitated Bob Irwin put his hand up and stopped one of his comrades from notching another arrow into his bow. He stood staring across the fissure as the hysterical whoops of laughter cut through the air.

"Why do they laugh?" Snarled one of the creatures in anger. "Truly these man-creatures are mad. Do they not know that we will kill them soon? We should go and capture them alive now. Torture them slowly after they have watched us pleasure the woman and kill her." He licked his thin lips in anticipation.

The large creature looked at him coldly. "And how shall we do this Grodok?" He looked contemptuously at the other's short bow legs. "Are your legs long enough to jump across that?" He pointed at the crack that had split the ground open.

Grodok gave him a surly look and walked over to the fissure, which was at least twelve foot across at its narrowest point. "_You _are tallest Thagak." His short leprous-skinned index finger stabbed out at his companion. "We have rope. You must try to jump across and we will follow."

The rest of the creatures nodded and grunted their agreement.

Thadak's face suffused with fury. He drew his sword instantly and held it against Grodok's scrawny throat, pressing the point home until it pricked the skin and caused dark blood to trickle out. "You would like that wouldn't you Grodok? For me to die jumping the hole and you become leader? You steaming little pile of warg dung." He snarled. "I haven't forgotten that _you_ were the maggot who lost sight of the woman in the first place when we were stalking the others."

Some of the others took up the complaint. "Aye. She was promised to us by the Other. He who came from the Great One in Thangorodrim. She was to be our prize when we captured the Elf and those things the man-creatures carried which shoot fire and _you_ lost her." They advanced upon Grodok who started to back away in terror when he saw the anger and ever-present desire for revenge in their eyes.

"There is always the Elf. He would be as much fun to fuck as the woman." He said in a placating voice, desperately trying to take the attention off himself and his failure.

They all turned to look at the bound figure who was the silent witness to all of this. Not even the dirt streaking his face and in his hair nor the blood crusting his bruised and grazed cheek where he had been struck could hide his beauty. He in turn regarded his captors calmly through the tendrils of gold hair that framed his face and considered his fate. Not for the first time in the past few hours it had to be said.

The truth was that if Grodok was to succeed in ousting Thadak as leader, Melannen knew his chances of reaching anywhere alive or remaining alive were few. Grodok was a follower, a dumb foot soldier with not an original or innovative thought in his body. He had three needs, food, fight and rape and he wasn't particular which gender he did the latter to. He was too stupid to understand that with a hostage like Melannen he had a bargaining chip for both sides.

Thadak on the other hand had a certain animal like intelligence in his black eyes. He was astute enough to work out that if he did the bidding of his masters, he would advance himself. With him as leader Melannen knew that he had a fighting chance of staying alive long enough to escape or be rescued. He didn't care which it was; whichever opportunity offered itself first.

With his colleagues' attention on the Elf, Grodok decided to make his bid for freedom. He scuttled sideways, edging his way to the high thorn thicket that had originally been on the opposite side of the fissure and which, ironically, had been Kim's temporary refuge two days earlier. Unfortunately he didn't get very far when a hoarse cry from one of the creatures alerted them all to the fact that Grodok was making a run for it.

Thadak turned and advanced on him, sword still drawn and smeared with Grodok's blood. Grodok stopped short when he realised that he couldn't get past the thicket and instead he started to back away. Thadak's thin lips bared over his awful teeth in a triumphant smile. He lunged and Grodok scuttled backwards, straight over the edge of the fissure.

Melannen didn't know whether to laugh or cry when all of the Orcs went to the edge and watched with interest as their former colleague disappeared down the hole in the ground and into its black depths. His cries of terror echoed and bounced off the walls of the fissure then dwindled to a distant scream which was cut off abruptly presumably as he reached the bottom.

"Do you think he is dead?" One of the Orcs asked.

Thadak burst into hoarse laughter. "I do not know Ugougoth, do you want to go down and see? I will help you do that."

Ugougoth backed away with a look of terror on his face. They all broke into raucous laughter and Thadak cuffed the disgruntled and embarrassed Ugougoth around the back of his head hard enough to make his head rock and his eyes water. He pointed at the bound Elf. "Bring him. We waste no more time or arrows on them. They will not survive anyway. If we do not kill them, some others will. Without their spitting fire-sticks they have nothing to defend themselves with, and we have those."

Ugougoth picked up the other end of the noose and pulled on it hard. Melannen was pulled from a sitting position and landed flat on his face. Ugougoth bent down and whispered in Melannen's delicately pointed ear in his brutal version of the common tongue. The Vanyar's nostrils wrinkled in disgust at the foetid stench from his breath. "You's going to have to get up and walk pretty little Elfie boy, unless you wants me to drag you all the way to Thangorodrim."

Melannen didn't understand all the words that Ugougoth spoke, but he got the drift very quickly and staggered to his feet. Ugougoth gave a hard contemptuous jerk on the rope and turned away after the other Orcs dragging Melannen after him.

oOo

The sound of the altercation on the other side and the cessation of hostilities against them at least, managed to put a stop on the hysterical giggles from Gary and the others. The hoarse scream as Grodok was virtually forced over the edge of the chasm in the ground definitely brought them back to reality.

"They've gone." Kim said softly. "And they have that blond man with them." She pointed at the tall, slim, slightly glowing figure that one of the creatures was dragging behind him.

Gary stood up and helped her up. They both watched as their attackers stomped off through the undergrowth. Gary walked to the edge of the fissure and as he looked, the captive turned and gave him a faint smile. Gary bent his head and bit his lip. It was becoming very obvious that they had to do something about freeing him.

The why was obvious. They simply couldn't leave that beautiful creature with those monstrosities from hell. The how was going to be a big problem and one they all needed to discuss. Before that, they needed to discuss their current dilemma of being trapped between two gaping cracks in the earth.

oOo

**Note: (1)**Telperinquar – Quenya for Celebrimbor, meaning Silver Fist.


	8. All that is necessary for evil to succee...

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2 

**Chapter 8 – All that is necessary for evil to succeed is that good men do nothing**.

"I don't know why we are here,  
but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves."

**- Ludwig Wittgenstein**

Jim Moore stood at the edge of one of the gaping fissures and stared out at the opposite side. Since the earth had thrown a fit and turned itself upside down he had spent most of the time trying to avoid being shot at, by arrows of all things and hadn't had time to take stock of the changes in his surroundings.

The Police training and the many briefings had prepared him for many of the evils of being a policeman, but none had included being shot at by primeval creatures with bows and arrows or being involved in earthquakes. Perhaps he could write a new chapter for the training manual. The first chapter would begin with 'All yellow jackets will be dispensed with immediately and disaster recovery in earthquakes training will commence shortly'.

He glanced around quickly just to make sure he hadn't lost sight of the others. Kim and the Chief were tracking the fissure behind him to see how far it went along. If it narrowed at some point then they would cross as best they could and make for Parkend and the cars. If they were still there. In fact if anything was still there. None of them knew how far-reaching the earthquake had been, his radio didn't work and neither did the Chief's or Gary's mobile phones so they were cut off from the outside world completely.

Gary was tracking the fissure the other way for the same purpose. Jim was supposed to be doing this one as well, but all he could do was think about what might have been happening to his family and friends. His desire was to find a way across and head for Coleford, but if they could get to the cars it would make more sense. They could get help faster. That's if there was still help to be had.

He frowned. There was something strange about the forest on the other side of the fissure but it was nothing he could put his finger on precisely. It just felt different. The silence was also unnerving. He had never been in the forest before and not heard the sounds of the trees rustling or the noises of birds and animals. Instead of those normal sounds all was deathly silence. He squinted across the gaping wound in the earth. Was it the trees? They looked different somehow, there were more oaks than conifers and the oaks looked young and slim.

Jim glanced behind him at the wide trunk of the oak that had sheltered Kim and Gary. It was too wide for anyone to wrap their arms around and as far as back as he could remember, the oaks in the forest had all been huge trees. Conifers had appeared at some relatively recent stage of development of the forest; they interspersed with the mighty oaks and there were clumps of them here and there with their dark evergreen pine needles and the fresh scent of the pine cones. He looked back at the forest across the fissure and then it hit him.

There were no conifers on that side, nary a one and many of the oaks were still saplings, although there were many adult trees too. His mouth dropped open, was that a beech over there? And a rowan? Some areas of the forest were classed as ancient semi-natural woodland and they had rowans and beeches. There were also birches there which he loved with their silver grey bark, but this part of the forest had been ancient oak interspersed with conifers for as long as he remembered. Parkland and veteran trees the Forestry Commission called it.

Another thing was that by rights he should be looking straight in the direction of the campsite which had just been beyond a clump of conifers and there had been a path through the bracken. Now there were no conifers and no path, just a myriad of oak tree trunks rising out of gorse and bracken and the occasional spreading width of rowans with their white scented spring flowers. He strained to try and make out familiar landmarks, but nothing on the other side of the fissure was familiar.

If that had all gone, then what about Coleford? And how come was there spring blossom on the rowans when it was the back end of summer?

"Are you all right?"

The sudden question startled him and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Gary was standing by his elbow with a question in his eyes.

"Ah. Yes. I'm okay, at least I think I am." He said blushing. "Sorry, I should have been checking how far this went along, but it suddenly struck me how different everything looks."

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Different? How?"

Jim found himself stammering out his feelings and thoughts. They sounded silly once they were put into words, but Gary seemed to accept what he was saying.

The army officer pursed his lips and frowned across the fissure. After a few seconds of intense scrutiny he turned to Jim. "You're absolutely sure about this?"

Jim nodded. "Rowan shouldn't be flowering in late summer. It flowers in spring around about the same time as apple and cherry blossom. My grandma has one in her front garden and although she loves the white flowers she always complains when they fall because they make a mess like confetti outside a church. There have never been rowans in this part of the forest, just oaks and conifers and my grandpa has often said that in ancient times the forests around Coleford were all oak. The Spanish Armada were supposed to have been told to destroy the Forest of Dean because that was where the navy got their supply of oak timber for their ships."

"I suppose that the earth tremor could have upset your perception a bit, but whether the forest has changed or not we're not going to get anywhere unless we find a way across the chasm. It seems to go for miles in that direction." Gary gestured to the side he had been walking along and smiled as reassuringly as he could at the troubled young policeman. "So how about we look this side for a way across and _then _worry about whether everything has altered? _If _anything has."

Jim sighed and nodded. Gary was right. The first priority was to find a way off this island they had been stranded on and they needed to move quickly, daylight was almost completely gone.

* * *

**Year 553, The First Age, on the edge of the Forest of Pen-Tathren, West Beleriand**.

Ereinion awoke from his reverie with a start as someone gently touched his shoulder.

"Wake up." Celeborn's face was grim. "Something is happening deep in the forest. The trees are in great distress."

All around him Ereinion could see Elves standing and staring in the direction of the heart of the forest. "How…" He tried to moisten his dry throat by swallowing. "How long has it been going on?"

Glorfindel answered him. "Not long, only seconds, but the trees were whispering and alarmed all night and the horses are uneasy"

"I know." Ereinion said wearily. "I heard them. I thought it was just because there had been deaths in the forest."

Celeborn shook his head. "It is more than that. The very earth is troubled. I can feel it through the soles of my feet. Deep inside the earth something is happening, although what it could be I do not know."

Ereinion looked over at Cirdan. "What do you think?" He asked softly.

Cirdan rubbed his chin again. There had been so much watchfulness in the atmosphere around Arda since the Host of the Valar had landed, it was difficult to tell if he was just uneasy about their presence and what it might mean or whether something drastic was happening with the environment itself. The trouble was that whenever the Valar _did_ interfere in Arda great upheavals and changes followed and he had a horrible feeling that they were responsible for a lot of the strange happenings around Beleriand.

They all looked at Cirdan expectantly. The Shipwright had awoken at Cuivenan and was probably the most ancient of the Eldar in Middle-earth. He knew the land and its moods well.

"I think that this war will have long-lasting ramifications for Arda and its people." He answered finally. "It is certain that when the Valar intervene it does not come without a price. One thing I do know for sure is that I have seen precious little wild life or game in this part of Beleriand. I had thought it was because of the fighting and the situation would improve once we reached the forested areas, but I have not seen hide nor hair of any beast of the earth or air for at least two days now."

A distant rumble deep in the forest resolved itself into a shivering of the earth beneath them. The horses whinnied and flared their nostrils in mild panic and the Elves looked around them uncertainly.

"We had better strike camp I think." Ereinion tried to sound unconcerned, but there was an edge of worry in his voice. "We need to press on in any case."

The deep rumble sounded again but this time it was accompanied by a loud groaning noise. The Elves looked up anxiously and full of fear. The trees were rustling and the branches were bending as though they were being pushed with an invisible hand.

Glorfindel didn't wait to see whether the King changed his mind or his orders. He strode around the various campfires of the Noldorin force exhorting them to break camp quickly and they obeyed without question although with a slight edge of panic in their seemingly orderly actions.

Celeborn had been standing quietly off to one side, his eyes distant and slightly silvered over. He now turned to Ereinion. "My lady wife says that the tides along the coast have been the highest for many seasons. Some ships in the mouth of Sirion have broken anchor and floated out of the harbour although they have now been retrieved. The waves are high and they have had to stop the elflings playing on the beaches."

Ereinion didn't bother to ask how Celeborn knew. Galadriel's ability for far-speaking had long been common knowledge. "Does she see a need for evacuation to higher ground?"

Celeborn nodded. "She and Galdor have already begun to make arrangements for the families in the lower lying areas to move them and their livestock to a safer higher place. They are moving out of Beleriand and further north up the coastline. And Ereinion…" Ereinion had turned to prepare his own departure when Celeborn stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked at Celeborn enquiringly.

"Galadriel also says that the wild beasts of the forests and the area have become non-existent. They have all left. For where, she and the woodsmen cannot tell, but they are gone. Not even the birds remain." Celeborn said quietly.

Ereinion's expression became grimmer. "When the wild beasts and fowl of the air leave, it is time for the rest of us to depart also. Give Lady Galadriel my compliments and ask her if she will carry on with those arrangements. I grant her the authority to take whatever measures she needs to take to ensure the safety of the people. Let messengers be sent to the Edain settlements also. They are welcome to go where we go, there is room for all. I will have nobody caught short in whatever disaster is looming over us. I could almost curse the Valar for waging this war. It is all very well seeking their errant fellow Vala and indeed it would be a relief to get Morgoth out of our hair, but do they really have to upset everyone else while they are doing it?" His tone dripped bitterness and a touch of defeat. "Have we not all lost enough? Must we be herded until we have nowhere to run and no choices left to make?"

Celeborn's hand dropped off the young King's arm. He felt utterly helpless in the face of Ereinion's anger and distress. There was nothing he could say and no comfort he could give because his own heart was filled with the same anger and distress. All he could hope was that his Galadriel did not leave it too late for her own evacuation. It would be just like her to remain until her own escape route was cut off.

* * *

"It's useless." The Chief said dourly. "It's too bloody dark to see anything now and the flashlight batteries will run out if we use them too much. As far as we can see there is no end to the chasm on the Parkend road side, at least not as far as we can see in the gloom. Perhaps we'll be better looking in daylight."

"Are you suggesting that we stay here?" Gary asked.

Chief shrugged. "Unless you want to fall down a bottomless hole in the dark, yes, most definitely that's what I'm suggesting."

Kim sank down onto the ground and hung her head. "We can't stay here in the dark. We don't have any sleeping bags or food or anything with us. It'll be cold soon."

Gary looked sharply at her. "I know our situation isn't good Sergeant, but we are just going to have to make the best of a bad situation." He looked around at the others. "We need to find out just exactly what we have got that will be of any help in this situation. Empty your pockets kiddies, let's see what bounty we have."

"No Bounties (1)." The Chief grinned. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out two Tracker bars and a packet of extra strong mints which he threw on the ground. "Just a Tracker or two. It's my little addiction." He said defensively when he realised that they were all looking at him. He then added an empty hip flask. "Don't ask." He said when Gary raised his eyebrows at him.

Kim managed a little better. She had four bars of chocolate from the Composite (1) rations that she'd been given before the start of the ill-fated exercise. She also had four teabags.

"Four teabags?" Gary looked at her in bewilderment. "Do I want to know why you have four teabags in your combat jacket pocket?"

She giggled. "I don't really know, it was just as I left the Mess before getting on the vehicle somebody told me to take extra teabags, so I did."

Gary laughed and the Chief shook his head in disbelief. "Well I may just give that somebody a big hug when I get back." He said. "I'm no good in the morning until I have my first cuppa."

"Jim?" Gary looked at the young policeman who blushed.

"I don't have much." He produced two packets of potato crisps.

"How about you?" Kim asked Gary.

He pulled the contents of his pockets out and spread them on the ground. There were no edible items, but he did have both matches and a lighter and his wallet with money and credits cards.

"Bloody typical." Chief said with a smirk. "Trust an officer to have no sense of practicality. We all have snack stuff, he has matches, money and plastic."

Gary had the good grace to blush and laugh. "Sorry Chief. I just didn't think I'd be somewhere where I'd need to fill up on sweeties."

"Never mind." Chief winked at him. "The matches will come in handy and there's plenty of wood around to make a fire."

Kim looked at him with some trepidation. "Should we risk that? What if those…things come back? They'll see the fire."

"I don't think they will come back, not now." Gary said quietly. "I think we can risk the fire, but only a small one. We need to mount a guard as well. Take it in turns. I'll take the first watch. I don't feel much like sleeping anyway."

An hour later they had a small campfire burning. Chief had taken charge of the food, such as it was and they had found a small pool of fairly clear water which had originally been part of the small stream but was now cut off from its source. They filled the hip flask with the water.

"I reckon the water in the pool is safe for the moment." Jim had said. "But it won't be in a couple of days when its stood without any kind of replenishment. It'll get stagnant quite quickly, especially in warm weather."

They shared out one packet of crisps and two of the chocolate bars between them and then settled in for the night. Kim was now curled up in an exhausted sleep and Jim was lying on his back looking up at the stars. The Chief stood up and stretched.

"Can't sleep Chief?" Gary called over softly so as not to disturb the others.

The Chief quietly made his way over to where Gary was leaning against one of the trees staring out into the darkness. "It's at times like these that I wish I hadn't given up smoking." He sighed. "I could just do with a ciggie."

Gary smiled and his white teeth gleamed in the darkness. "Sorry I can't oblige Chief, it's one vice I haven't managed to attain."

"So why do you have the lighter and matches?"

There was a long silence before Gary answered. "The lighter belonged to a friend who was killed in Iraq." He said with an edge of pain in his voice. "I always keep the matches handy just in case. Something I've done since my early days when I was stuck without anything to light a fire in the middle of nowhere."

"Damn good habit to get into." The Chief's voice was quiet. "I'm sorry sir."

He sensed rather than saw Gary's face turn to him in the gloom. "For what?" Gary asked.

"Your mate, the one who was killed in Iraq."

"He was a soldier doing his duty. He knew the score when he joined up. Trouble was that he left a wife and young family behind."

"That's damn rough." The Chief said sympathetically.

"Yeah. Rough." There was a finality in Gary's voice that clearly indicated that he didn't want to continue that particular line of conversation.

"What about tomorrow sir?" Chief asked.

"Tomorrow we look for a way over. I think the idea of going back to Parkend is pretty much a big negative, so it looks like forward towards Coleford is going to be our best bet, but only if we find a way over."

"And if we don't?" The question hung in the air between them like a bad smell.

"If we don't, then I don't know." Gary looked at Chief who could see the gleam of teeth again. "How are you at Tarzan impressions Chief?"

"Do you mean the beating the chest and howling at the top of my voice? Bloody marvellous sir, even if I say so myself. I'm known in Sergeant's Messes all over the place for my Tarzan cry. It's my party piece at Regimental Dinners." The Chief grinned back at him and Gary chuckled.

"I'll just bet it is. However I was thinking more about the swinging through the trees part."

"Where there's a will, there's a way sir. But to be honest I would have thought a fit young man like you would be better at the gymnastics than an old geezer like me." Came the dry reply. "I think I'll turn in now sir, if you don't mind."

"Of course Chief. Get some rest. I'll wake you in three hours for your watch."

Gary listened while the Chief settled himself down on the cold forest floor. It took a few grumbles and muffled curses but finally silence fell around them once more.

Major Gary Matthews silently cursed his superiors for getting him into this.

_If I have to do the Tarzan thing, you are NEVER EVER going to hear the end of it._ He vowed to the silent heavens.

* * *

(1) **Bounty** – A coconut filled chocolate bar.

(2) **Composite Rations**. Easy cook instant meals, which are issued to soldiers in the field. The US Army calls them MRE's (Meals Ready to Eat).


	9. Fools rush in where the Valar wish them ...

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2

**Chapter 9 – Fools rush in where the Valar wish them to tread**.

"What if nothing exists and we're _all _in somebody's dream?  
Or what's worse, what if only that fat guy in the third row exists?"

**- Woody Allen**

Ingwion pulled off one of his soft boots and winced as an ache assaulted the base of his spine. _So much for the Eldar not ailing_, he thought to himself wryly. _I now have muscles I did not even know I possessed and a sore backside to boot. _

Eonwe set a fast pace for all on this march and heaven help the stragglers, not that there were many of those; not with bands of Orcs roaming the countryside. However, when the Herald of Manwe called for speed, his armies did not ask why or complain, they asked instead, how fast do you wish us to go? Now Ingwion was suffering the consequences of the fearsome pace the Maia leader set.

This whole war was nothing like he had imagined it to be, although he would have been hard put to describe what he _had _imagined prior to deployment. Even the many long and sometimes tedious briefings on the terrain, the enemy, the friendly forces of the second-born and the in-depth discussions about the Eldar who still remained in Middle-earth that Eonwe had held on the way across the sea had seemed unreal and faintly silly somehow.

They had to march far to the north to Thangorodrim, the three mighty peaks raised from the Iron Mountains by Morgoth and the seat of the enemy itself. Along the way they would encounter many hazards and obstacles not the least of them being the creatures, both friendly and unfriendly, not all of them walking on two legs. The one constant would be the Orcs that served Morgoth.

It was by the malice of Melkor that the Orcs arose, although no one knew for sure from whence they had derived, Elves or Men. Envious of the beautiful Elven race, Melkor and his spirits, some of them Maiar who had willingly followed him, had taken many living beings and corrupted them by means of dark arts, so rumour held that it was perhaps both races who had been unwilling contributions to the mix.

So it was that the army of the Valar from the Blessed Isle knew nothing of the Orcish race at all. They had gathered up many small fighting forces from the Edain who had answered Eonwe's call to arms once they landed and there were some independent small bands of Elves from Middle-earth who had also attached themselves to the Host as it marched. It was these last from Middle-earth itself who were the only part of the army that really knew the nature of the enemy's troops.

No amount of briefing from Eonwe on the long journey across the sea from Aman could have prepared the Host of the Valar for the reality of the enemy on the ground.

Ingwion, Finarfin and their troops had learned the hard way that the small bands of Orcs who were far away from the control of Thangorodrim acted entirely on their own and according to their own desires and needs, often neglecting any orders they were originally given. They fought among themselves as much as they fought against the targets specified by Morgoth or his lieutenant, Sauron. Orcs killed Orcs and then they devoured what they had killed.

The sweeter flesh of Elf or Man was held as a special dish and highly prized. Ingwion had now lost count of the number of Edain and Elvish homesteads they had found razed to the ground and nothing left of the inhabitants but a pile of bones and severed heads. Women, men, children, animals, nothing was left and the flesh was devoured raw although sometimes they did stop to cook their meat depending upon whether or not they were being hunted. All the Elves could do was bury what they found, mourn the loss and send out warriors to track the Orcs and kill them.

It was such a group that must have fallen upon Ingwion's brother Melannen and his small patrol and it made him sick to his stomach and angry beyond belief to think of those beautiful warriors, some of whom he had known since they were elflings, being torn apart limb from limb like animals and devoured. He had wept many tears of self-blame and anguish over this and could not get the memories of his younger brother as an elfling playing on the slopes of Taniquetl or wide-eyed at festival time out of his mind. The visions tormented him and stopped him from taking the rest he so desperately needed.

How was he to describe his brother's death to his mother and father? Was he to tell them that being ripped apart and devoured by hideous parodies of the Elven race was a glorious and valorous death for a good and just cause?

No, nothing Eonwe had told them had prepared them for this disgusting mess that was Middle-earth.

He buried his head in his hands and wept anew. Huge sobs racked his frame and he desperately sought to control himself so that no one would hear him. Yet still the tears came and would not be stopped. Even the knowledge that if his brother and the others were indeed dead then their spirits had gone to Mandos did not assuage his grief or dissipate the terrible visions that assaulted him when he closed his tent flap for the night's rest.

Ingwion had taken to dealing with his grief during the day and those nights they marched and did not camp by furiously killing every Orc that crossed his path, but nothing seemed to ease the pain.

He sighed wearily and spread the maps before him once again, but even as he pored over them assessing the terrain, possible ambush points and potential supply areas his eyelids drooped over tired, red-rimmed eyes and he sank into a fitful sleep.

As he slumbered, a tall slender figure dressed in filmy grey raiment stepped from the shadows and observed him for a while, her beautiful eyes filled with compassion. Este the Gentle, healer of hurts and weariness laid a slim white hand on the top of his head and gave him the best gift she could offer him; that of rest.

**

* * *

Somewhere deep in the woods, England**

"Sgt Freeman, just think of it as one of the obstacles on an assault course." Gary's previously patient and encouraging tones were beginning to get an edge of exasperation.

The good Major had been delighted when they had discovered part of the fissure where one of the uprooted conifers had fallen straight across forming a sort of bridge. It was not the widest bridge to be sure, nor was it the safest, being rather rounded and a little on the slippery side. Gary had demonstrated his considerable acrobatic abilities by running lightly from one side to the other without showing fear of any kind and declaring it a piece of cake. He was just mightily relieved that he hadn't needed to display his tree swinging qualities and volunteered a prayer of thanks to whatever power was out there listening to his heartfelt pleas of the previous night.

Jim had been the next to cross using the fallen tree. By rights Kim should have gone next but after five abortive attempts all of which stopped short at her actually putting her foot on the tree, the young policeman offered to go across to show her how easy it could be even if a person wasn't as light and fleet-footed as a certain military officer show-off.

"Perhaps we should cross together." Suggested Chief, who was determined not to come across until Kim was safely on the other side. "I could walk just behind her."

"And do what? Catch her if she falls? The surface of the bark is too smooth and slippery Chief and I'm not entirely sure it will take the weight of two people." Gary bent down and eyed the tree doubtfully. "Best not to risk it. She can do it, I know she can do it."

Kim was deathly pale. The trouble was that she had just been through too much and now every obstacle no matter how tiny looked like the side of a glass mountain. "I'll try again sir." She said desperately trying not to burst into tears again. It seemed to her as though bawling like a child was all she was capable of these days, and she hated herself for it. She wanted to prove to all three men that she wasn't a wimp and a liability. So far she had failed miserably. Now was her chance to prove differently.

They all held their breaths as she slowly and carefully approached the tree trunk, stepping over the bits of branch that they hadn't managed to break off to ease their passage across. She lifted one boot and placed it tentatively on the rounded surface, then closed her eyes and lifted herself up until she was balancing on the very end, which was safely anchored on what they hopes was relatively solid ground.

"Well done." Gary's soft voice sounded across the chasm to her. It was gentle and encouraging again and she allowed the deep tones to wash over and soothe her for a moment.

He really had the nicest voice. In fact, all of him was rather nice.

Her eyes snapped open at the abrupt change of her pattern of thought and she wobbled. The Chief's arm shot out towards her and the other two each drew in a sharp breath, but she shook her head and managed to regain her balance again.

_You need to stop that._ She told herself firmly. _He's an officer and he's off limits. Just because he's the most beautiful man you've ever seen and he's kind to you doesn't mean that you'd stand a chance with him. _Oh god, the first guy she'd been interested in for ages and he had to be out of bounds. Now _that _was bad organisation and very bad timing considering their predicament.

"You can do it Kim." His deep voice soothed her again and she took another few slow measured steps. She was now a quarter of the way across. So far, so good. She tried to take another step and then put her foot down uncertainly. It slid slightly across the smooth bark and for one panic stricken second it looked as though she would fall, but again managed to regain her step much to the palpable relief of the onlookers.

Gary wanted to tell her just to break into a swift run and the momentum of speed would carry her over the last few feet, she would then at least be close enough for either Jim or him to catch. The trouble was that he could see she wouldn't be able to break out of her fear long enough to do it. He sighed deeply and tried to reach her again using his calmest, most reassuring, tone of voice.

"Kim. _Look at me_."

His tone had changed to something very melodic and mesmerising and Kim's head reared up at the sound, which seemed to be more inside her head than anything else. Her fear-filled gaze locked with his and she could see now just how amazingly blue his eyes were. Not the pale blue of northern waters, nor the bright blue of a summer sky, they were a rich dark blue and she couldn't think of an adequate comparison to anything.

What she did know was that the melodic tones of that voice were drawing her deep into those eyes and therein lay great peril. If she took a nose-dive into those deep blue pools, she might never re-surface again. She blinked furiously and tried to think about something else, but her treacherous gaze once again locked with his and she found she couldn't, didn't want to, look away.

"Don't be afraid Kim. Follow my voice and walk towards me."

Like a sleepwalker she began to put one foot in front of the other. The Chief and Jim looked on anxiously as Kim sure-footedly and calmly walked along the log towards the Major who stood smiling faintly at her. He held out his arms and she grasped them, grinning with delight at her triumph. She basked in his warm, approving smile.

"Well done Sergeant. You finally got here. You see? It's not so bad if you just concentrate on something else." Gary gently gripped her arms harder and then let her go.

_Like your eyes._ She thought as a feeling of disappointment swept over her when he stopped holding her. She obstinately pushed the errant thought to one side. This was no romantic walk in the park and she was no young girl feeling the flush of first attraction to a handsome young man. This was a serious situation and there was no place for dalliance of any kind. What she needed to do was get a grip and do it quickly, so she masked whatever emotion may have been showing on her face and smiled faintly at him instead.

Gary noticed her sudden reticence and was both relieved and vaguely disappointed at the same time. In another time, another place, another life even, he might have taken a chance and indulged in a mild flirtation, but not today and not here, it just wasn't appropriate. A niggling feeling of something impending was chipping at the edge of his mind. They needed to get away from this forest and quickly.

The Chief crossed without any hesitation, running lightly along the log much in the same way Gary had done. The more their little journey together continued, the more Gary began to realise that there was more to Chief Knowles that met the eye. He had undoubtedly served operationally all over the world in some infantry capacity, but had probably re-badged because of some injury that ruled him out of the more active arms of the service.

Unfortunately there was no time to reflect on this. Now that they had reached the other side of the gaping fissure left by the earthquake, the more pressing need of reaching civilisation and getting together some sort of rescue or investigation team had reached the top of the priority list.

He gathered them together under one of the large oaks. "Well now we're across, there are a few issues Jim brought up that everyone needs to be aware of." He nodded at the policeman. "Tell them exactly what you told me."

The Chief and Kim were silent as Jim explained about the difference in the trees and the rowan's flowering pattern.

"Thoughts? Opinions?" Gary's sharp gaze swept over the other three as he threw open the discussion.

Chief leant against the tree and ran his hand along the bark. "I would say that the first thing we need to do is head towards where the campsite…er crime scene was originally. That should surely tell us what, if anything has changed. By that I mean the extent of the effect of the tremor. I presume that we'd be heading in the direction of Coleford if we did that anyway?" He looked at Jim who nodded.

"Yes. Coleford is in that direction. I agree with you. The trouble is that I don't recognise any of this now and I've been exploring this part of the Forest for donkey's years. It's as if the forest is going backwards in time. The last really old oaks like this old lady were felled to make Elizabethan warships."

"Kim?" Gary used her first name without thinking and then mentally kicked himself for doing so.

She gnawed nervously at her bottom lip. "I don't really want to look at the crime scene, couldn't we just skirt it and head straight for Coleford. I mean, we found Mr Irwin's head didn't we? And one of my magazines? We should go back and report my weapon being missing I suppose" Her tone was both slightly pleading and reluctant.

"I'd forgotten about the head." Gary said slowly. He turned to Jim. "Where did you put it?"

Jim flushed to the roots of his hair. He slowly turned towards the island between the gaping wounds in the earth and pointed in the general direction of where they had come from. "I'm afraid in all the excitement of being shot at, I threw it down and forgot to pick it up when we found a place to cross. It's back there, where we made camp, unless it fell down one of the holes. I honestly wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry." He said remorsefully.

Gary sighed. "Don't worry Jim, it was understandable under the circumstances, but I suppose we'd better go back for it. I'll go."

He started to walk back over towards the fallen conifer and then stopped dead in his tracks.

It nearly always happens that in these sorts of precarious circumstances the best laid plans of mice and men usually go badly astray and their particular circumstances were to prove no different.

As if commanded by some force beyond their ken, some of the earth underneath the conifer that had been their bridge across the chasm slowly broke away and slid into the depths with the merest whisper of sound taking the tree with it.

"Well I guess that sorts that out." Chief said softly after a few moments. "What happened to the magazine?"

Gary patted his pocket. "I have it." He turned and shook his head. "_If I didn't know any better…" _He muttered under his breath. "Let's head out. Lead the way Jim. You know this area better than any of us so we're all in your hands now."

Jim headed off in the direction of the location of the campsite, now a police crime scene and gestured for the others to follow him.

* * *

**Half an hour later**

"I don't understand it." Jim stopped and ran his finger around the material of his damp and sweaty shirt collar. He looked around him in despair. They had stopped in a tiny clearing that was surrounded by drooping willow trees yet there didn't seemed to be any water nearby. According to Jim, the nearest river was a few miles away and the Forest of Dean had very few willows, if any at all.

"Where did these come from? It's always been oaks here." He sounded bewildered and a little bit put out and Gary was hard put not to laugh.

After starting out with pale, lukewarm rays struggling to pierce the thick canopy of leaves and branches overhead, the sun had arisen and the temperature with it. Kim had removed her combat jacket and tied it around her waist, Gary and the Chief had done likewise and Jim was carrying his uniform jacket across his arm. He had long since ditched the yellow protective gear. All of them were hot, thirsty, grubby and sweaty and one hip flask of water between them was just not cutting it.

Kim sank to the ground and rested her back against a fallen log. She tried to fan herself with the small notebook from the inside pocket of her combat jacket but to no avail. It simply didn't produce enough breeze to make any difference.

"We should have reached the campsite ages ago." Jim said despondently. "I must have gone in the wrong direction."

Gary leaned against another tree and the Chief slumped down beside Kim. "Stop beating yourself up Jim. We've got enough with Kim doing it. Let's just catch our breath and then we can take stock of our surroundings. We might just be a little off course."

_A little off course?_ Chief wondered to himself. They were a damn sight more than a little off course. "Have you noticed that we still haven't seen any birds or wildlife since we started walking?" He asked out loud.

Gary nodded. "Yes, but it may be just because of the severity of the tremor. Animals and birds know when to make themselves scarce in time of danger. They have much more sense than us and a deeper connection to the earth. Don't wander too far away from the rest of us Jim we don't want to lose you." He called after the policeman who had walked to the tree edge and was straining to see if he could recognise anything.

Jim came back with a look of excitement in his eyes. "I think we might be at the edge of this part of the forest. I reckon that the A4136 is not far on the other side of the trees, but we should hit the B road into Coleford before that!"

Gary levered himself into a standing position. "Okay troops. You heard the man. Civilisation is within our grasp."

Kim sighed with relief and stood up, brushing earth and remnants of dead leaves and twigs off the seat of her combat trousers. She held out a hand to the Chief who took it, groaned loudly and stood up. "Oh me poor knees. Dear god, I'll be bloody glad of a cup of tea, a shit, shower and a shave, in that order."

A gaping silence met his words. He looked around and quirked an eyebrow at them.

"Too much information?"

"Way!" Came the combined reply.

* * *

**  
Another Half an hour later**

"I simply don't understand it." Jim stood at the edge of the trees. "Where the fuck is the A4136? You should just be able to see it and the outskirts of Coleford from here."

There was a distinct note of panic in his voice. Up till this point he had been quiet and positive but now he just sounded young and scared.

Gary put his hand on the young man's arm in sympathy. "Okay." He soothed. "Let's try and be calm about this and go over the facts slowly. Fact number one, we're in the Forest of Dean which is oak, beech, birch and some conifer right?" Jim nodded. "And presumably we're still in the Forest of Dean but it's now turned into a wood full of weeping willows."

"Yes." Jim's voice was a despairing whisper. "There are willows down by the River Wye and the Monnow, but not here in the Forest of Dean."

Gary looked over at the Chief and Kim who were both looking frazzled around the edges. The Chief shrugged and shook his head. "Don't look at me sir, I never was into trees much. One tree looks much like another to me."

"Fact number two." Gary ignored the Chief's faintly facetious comment. "The A4136 should be straight ahead of us and it should be just visible to us along with the nearest big town of Coleford." He shaded his eyes against the sun. "I don't see anything that looks like a road system or a town. How about any smaller villages? What else should be here, but perhaps a little closer?"

Jim's gaze swept around the vista laid out in front of him again. "Mile End or Berry Hill should be visible as well, depending on where we've come out of the forest. They're quite sizeable villages." He turned to Gary in despair. "I know this place sir, I've lived here all my life and I'm telling you. Things are just not where they are supposed to be. Those trees aren't supposed to be here." His voice broke with a sob, and he swallowed furiously to get and get himself under control again.

"I see a river over there." Kim had joined them. She pointed. "Look, you can just the sun reflecting on it. It looks like a shiny silver ribbon from this distance."

"She's right." Chief squinted into the distance. "It's not all that far away either, maybe a couple or five miles away at most. The forest looks like it goes down to the banks and then continues on for a bit on the other side."

"See anything familiar at all yet Jim?" Gary asked the distraught young man quietly.

Jim shook his head. "Nothing. I'm not even sure that we're in the same forest. Except that…" His voice trailed off miserably.

"Except what?" Gary asked encouragingly.

"Well, that river is exactly where I would have said that the A4136 should be." He frowned. "I seem to remember reading something about when they were building it. I was doing something for a school project about the area in ancient times and how things had changed. There was bit in an old book of my dad's about the A4136 being built alongside a really ancient riverbed. They apparently found signs of very early settlements. My dad says that there was a huge outcry from the archaeologists because the Transport people just wanted to bulldoze everything down so they could build the road. It ended up with them moving the road over about a half a mile so that the archaeologists could start a dig."

"Where did they think the river had originated, do you remember?" Gary asked quietly.

Jim huffed a sigh. "I think they said that it might have originally been a tributary of the River Wye and something happened to divert the flow, so it just dried up."

"Hmm. The evidence of settlements would make a lot of sense considering that it was common in ancient times to build a town or village near a river or water source. Commerce and traffic were better if they had some means of transportation like boats." Gary mused.

"Could the earthquake have caused it to shift back?" Kim suggested.

"It's possible, but highly unlikely to have happened overnight. If it did and flooded the road then we're likely to find a bit of a mess down there." Jim shook his head. "Anyway, apart from the fact that the river is where the road should be, I still don't recognise any of the landscape and where are the villages?"

"Well there's one way to find out isn't there?" Gary spoke in a determined voice. "We go down there and look for ourselves."

* * *


	10. Oh, oh, oh what a lovely War

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2

**Notes to reviewers:**

I'm sorry that I had already written and uploaded Chapter 9 by the time I saw your reviews. So I will say thank you now to both of you.

I have to state publicly that I am indebted to Phantom Bard for his private emailed reviews and comments. Those insights and personal takes on the Silmarillion, the characters and Tolkien's world and work are fascinating to say the least and immensely helpful. Because of them I feel constrained to explain why I have deviated slightly from canon in some places, not for Phantom Bard's sake but for the sake of others who may read and wonder why I have put certain people where they are.

**Glorfindel **- Theoretically this character shouldn't really appear in Middle-earth until quite a few years into the 2nd Age. There is no indication that he actually took part in the War of Wrath because he was still in the Halls of Waiting having died in the fall of Gondolin in Year 510 of the 1st Age. I have therefore taken a little liberty for which I crave the indulgence of Lords Manwe Sulimo and Namo by sending him back to ME a little earlier. This is because he is such a wonderful and mysterious character he brings richness to the world and for no other reason.

**Galadriel & Celeborn** - Again, their history is rather vague and Tolkien seems to change his mind a lot about where they were at any given time. Once again I have taken a little liberty and decided to put them in the region of the mouth of the River Sirion along with Cirdan and Ereinion Gil-galad at the time the War of Wrath begins and the landing of the Host of the Valar. They subsequently get involved in the events of the book to some degree.

Using Galadriel's ability to far-speak during this time, which is only mentioned in the Lord of the Rings trilogy as far as I am aware and is most probably a result of using a Ring of Power, is a creative licence I have awarded her for having Melian the Maia as her mentor during her stay with Thingol and Melian. It is stated that Melian taught her some of her own powerful sorceries, the most notable of which being the girdle of protection or sorcerous web she spun around Doriath. I believe Galadriel may have utilised something similar for Lothlorien. For the purpose of this story I have decided that far-speaking is one of these sorceries which she was subsequently taught by Melian.

**The War of Wrath** – Again all timings for these events seem to be +- whatever years. The only thing that is clear is that it happened during the short 1st Age and ended that Age. For the purpose of my story the war begins in Year 547 of the 1st Age and ends in Year 597 when Eonwe sails back to Valinor with the host and Elros leaves with those of the Edain who follow him. The war was approximately 50 years long and I have chosen to set my tale in Year 553, eight years after Host of the Valar landed.

**Gil-galad/Cirdan, involvement in the war** – Nothing Tolkien writes states that the ME Elves acted in any capacity in the war. As has been pointed out to me, they were probably heartsick and war-weary, their resources were depleted and their backs to the wall with the enemy baying at their very gates. They were also still operating under the Doom of Mandos and would perhaps have received short shrift from Eonwe had they offered to help. This was why Earendil made the trip to Valinor in the first place, to plead for succour and for both Elves and Men and mercy for the Noldor despite Namo saying that they would find none. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that despite being tired, Elves like Gil-galad, Cirdan, Celeborn and the like would not wish to just sit by and not do something. I have chosen to let Gil-galad and Co, put together the remnants of their own forces and make an attempt to join the host and fight for what was, in reality, their homeland. Something I believe they would have felt very strongly about.

One of Tolkien's works says that none of the elves of ME knew that the War had taken place and they only found out about events from kinsfolk who had been in the battles once they had eventually sailed West much later on. I find this particular statement to be a rather unrealistic one from Tolkien (I will say five Hail Mary's later on for insulting the good Professor!) especially since he also states that Eonwe's trumpets and calls to arms sounded over the countryside and that the sound of his armies made the mountains of Beleriand rumble. To me that says that unless Gil-galad and the other elves had developed the sudden onset of extreme deafness, they would have known about the Host and certainly would have received news that Eonwe had sent out a call for arms. Tolkien was quite happy to have men join the host, but the Elves remaining in ME were possibly banned from taking an active role. Tired or not I cannot see them taking that lying down. I choose for the purpose of this story to believe that they not only knew about the war, but also chose to try and take an active part. Another creative licence for which I hope I am forgiven!

That all having been said, I will now stop blathering on and get on with the tale!

**Chapter 10 – Oh, oh, oh what a lovely War**

"Success occurs when no one is looking,  
failure occurs when the General is watching."**  
MurphysLaw of Combat# 105  
**

**West Beleriand, along the banks of the River Narog, Year 553 FA.**

Ereinion bent his dark head and lost himself in thought as they left the willow wood of Nan Tathren behind them and turned northwest along the western bank of the River Narog in the direction that would eventually take them through what had been Nargothrond. He was currently wondering, for the thousandth time, whether he was leading them all on a fool's errand.

The call to arms as Eonwe and his army landed at Brithumbar had not included the Elves, any of them. Not the Green Elves who had no wish to involve themselves, nor the Sindar many of whom blamed the Noldor and their accursed war with Morgoth. No word had reached Ereinion about whether they were expected to play and part and many had darkly muttered about the Noldor exiles not being welcome as part of the Host of the Valar since they still laboured under the Doom of Mandos. Indeed, since nothing had been heard about them joining the Host, Ereinion, Cirdan and the others assumed that this _was_ the case.

At first the idea of letting that huge army drive its way across Beleriand and up to the north seemed the best. With Eonwe driving the Orcs and other fell creatures before him, rending huge amounts of destruction as he went it had seemed, on the surface at least, a good rather than a bad thing. At least it drew the enemy from the gate and allowed the Elves of Middle-earth a much-needed breathing space.

So for a while there was a form of peace and time to re-group for those weary and exhausted with war and atrocities, but as time wore on and as they had more time to think, the more they asked themselves and each other questions about the possible aftermath of such a war. Not least of which was 'what will happen to us after they have defeated Morgoth?'

It was a question on the mind of every Elf under the rule of the recently crowned High King of the Noldor in exile and no less on the mind of the High King himself. It was also the one question nobody could actually answer. Many had their thoughts on the subject, but nobody yet dared to put those thoughts into words.

Ereinion knew fine well what Cirdan thought. The Valar seldom interfered without massive consequences, but the burning question was, what were those consequences likely to be?

The news that the tides were rising and that the animals and birds had migrated told him that something was happening and it wasn't going to be pleasant. It hurt him to think of the innocents that might get caught up in the wrath of the Gods. Everyone on Middle-earth had suffered so much and they were all so tired. It might have seemed like a wonderful idea to send a massive destructive force of arms to purge Middle-earth of its worst oppressor to those sitting on the tranquil slopes of Taniquetl, but to those who lived under the shadow it was a double-edged sword.

Every nerve in Ereinion's body was screaming for him to go back and evacuate everyone he could instead of continuing on this course of meeting up with Eonwe's force and possible rejection. However the stubborn part of his brain insisted that he and the other Elves in Middle-earth, not all of them exiles, had a right to fight for what was, in effect, their homeland and for many, including Ereinion, the place of their birth.

For this reason Celeborn had elected to ride with the 'still wet behind the ears' upstart Noldor High King, not because he swore allegiance to him or the cursed Noldor, but because this was the land of Celeborn's birth too. Unlike his wife he had not seen the Light of the Trees and Aman meant very little to him. _This _was his place.

Of course there was also the matter of his wife Galadriel, who was counted among the Kinslayers under the Doom of Mandos. Whatever the result of this war and Earendil's plea or the rising of Gil-Estel, Galadriel would not wish to return meekly to Aman and slip into the role of obedient subject and dutiful daughter, even if her illustrious father Finarfin wanted her to. Galadriel still had dreams and desires and Celeborn would stand by her steadfastly while she tried to achieve them.

And what of that strange item they found? Celebrimbor no doubt would have found the time to break it into its component parts, but the speed of their march meant that a proper examination would not take place until they next set up camp. The more Ereinion thought about the strange cold object with its functional metal moving parts, the more he felt that it was linked to something happening with Morgoth and even if they were turned away by Eonwe, they needed to bring the thing before him with some sort of report on its purpose.

That was Ereinion's story, and he intended to stick to it.

After a while of pushing his thoughts around his aching brain he became aware that the golden-haired Glorfindel had eased his horse in beside him. "You seem troubled." He said softly to the High King.

For a minute Ereinion let the soft, melodic tones of the other Elda wash over him. Nearly everything about Glorfindel reeked of confidence, joyous laughter and beauty. He found himself wondering if the Valar had sent him back for that very reason. Things never seemed so bad when Glorfindel's rich, musical laughter rang out. It was as if he brought the sunshine out from behind thick dark clouds wherever he went. Spirits lightened in his wake and those around him could not help breaking into wreaths of smiles.

He grinned at Glorfindel. "I was just wondering if I am leading everyone into folly." He admitted candidly. "There is a part of me that says we should go back and help evacuate everyone."

"You seem convinced that something terrible is going to happen." Glorfindel's voice took on a serious note, an unusual thing for him.

Ereinion sat up straighter and drew in a deep breath, then he turned to his companion. "Do you not feel it in the air my friend?" He swept an expansive arm all around him. "Something is happening in the earth. The very air, the smells of the forest and the steams and rivers are altered. The animals are gone; we have seen no birds since the rumblings in the earth near Nan Tathren. It is as if the land here is beginning to fade and die."

Glorfindel gave him a sympathetic smile. "Yet all is still green, and the flowers still bloom, the breeze still sends the scents of the foliage and plants into our nostrils. There is still great beauty in these lands. I do not see the decay you seem to be seeing. Mayhap it is the residue of the destructive wake of the Lords of the West that holds you in its grip. Try to find some peace Lord Gil-galad. You are doing what you believe is the right thing to do and that is all any of us can do." He laid a gentle hand on Ereinion's arm. "Do not torture yourself so my friend or anticipate further horrors. Such things come upon us unbidden and unawares as it is without us worrying them into existence."

Without further ado he raised his golden voice in a song. The clouds of doubt and uncertainty began to lift from Ereinion Gil-galad's overwrought young mind when he realised that Glorfindel was singing a song popular in many taverns across Beleriand, a song that much over-exaggerated the valorous exploits of the famous Lord of the House of the Golden Flower against one of the mighty Balrogs of Morgoth.

The laughter rippled out of him and the sound of his rich tenor accompanying the Balrog Slayer in harmony brought a lightness to their journey and a smile even to Celeborn's lips.

* * *

**The office of the General Officer Commanding HQ 4 Division, Aldershot Garrison, England, present day**

The stern, fearsome looking man with short iron grey hair sitting behind the large mahogany desk was not in a benevolent mood. His pale blue hawk-like gaze swept over the assembled officers and his fingers tapped out an irritable tattoo on the aforesaid desk.

"Let me see if I have this right." His voice was deceptively soft but even so, each word fell like the knell of doom into the ghastly silence and everyone within earshot flinched.

Those who had no errands in the vicinity of the General's office scurried away hastily to their various hidey-holes. The General's rage and reach tended to be very long and he often scooped up completely unsuspecting innocents who were stupid enough to be loitering in the corridor outside, right along with the guilty who were lined up in front of him.

The only person who wasn't afraid of him was the Garrison Regimental Sergeant Major. He wasn't afraid of anyone or anything.

However at this moment in time, it became known generally in the headquarters that the General was about to tear somebody apart and feed them to his Cavalier King Charles spaniel. This charming little creature with the winsome look and melting brown eyes was known affectionately to his master as 'Mugger', mainly because he had a habit of sinking his teeth into the ankle of any unfortunate who passed by the General's office door while it was open. The Chief of Staff had been known to refer to it as 'that tenacious, shit-arsed little fucker', but never in the General's hearing. Even the COS stopped short at that kind of professional suicide.

The General stood up and went to one of the French windows that looked out onto part of the Garrison. Mugger, who was lying in his basket beside the desk looked up with immediate interest, jumped out of the basket and trotted over to the window via the line-up.

Five military officers and an SIB Military Police detective held their collective breaths and six pairs of legs shifted nervously as a moving ball of soft hair with a squashed jaw full of needle-like teeth ambled past within a hair's breadth of vulnerable flesh. The collective breath exhaled in one relieved sigh when the animal, plumy tail thumping gently on the polished wood flooring and pink tongue lolling rakishly out of its mouth, sat down beside the General and looked up hopefully.

Even if Mugger had decided to take a lump out of someone, that someone would have suffered in silence and agony rather than give the General the satisfaction of knowing that his dog had claimed yet another victim.

The General didn't look down. Instead he rummaged in his trouser pocket and came up with a doggie treat which he gave to Mugger, then he turned and fixed all the human occupants of the room with his gimlet gaze.

"Are you trying to tell me that not only do we have nothing but a pile of human bones and sixteen severed heads who were originally seventeen soldiers currently serving Her Majesty, Her Heirs and Successors, we also have seventeen missing assault rifles along with magazines and ammunition. And to add insult to bloody injury we have now also lost Sergeant Freeman female type who was the only survivor of the massacre, one Army Major, one Warrant Officer and a police constable? The list is growing longer gentlemen. I want explanations."

A great deal of shifting and clearing of throats took place. Nobody wanted to be the one to answer because the General's ire would then land solely on that person and _they _would be the focus of the whole unfortunate interview without coffee.

"_Well?"_ The General literally barked out the word and Mugger emphasised it with a short woof of his own. "Is there _anybody_ here with the guts to explain this?"

"I think you've just about got the right of it General." Detective Inspector Alun Davis' deep voice cut through the fear-filled atmosphere. The six assembled military personnel parted like the Red Sea to reveal Davis sitting calmly, one leg slung casually over the other, in one of the easy chairs at the back of the room which were normally reserved for special guests.

The General's complexion took on a purplish-pink hue. "And just _who_ might you be sir?" He demanded, walking up to the completely unfazed policeman. Mugger dutifully followed the General, but not without snapping at the MP's trouser leg as he trotted past. The MP let out a muffled curse which he managed to change into a cough at the last minute.

Davis smiled enigmatically and bent down to scratch the little dog behind his ear. To the astonishment of the assembled company Mugger reacted to the caress by ecstatically stretching his throat for more scratching and thumping his back leg gently on the floor. The General's glittering glare which had been known to fell those made of stern military stuff softened slightly.

"Nice dog." Davis said with a smile. He stood up and held out his hand. "Detective Inspector Alun Davis, Lydney Police sir. If you'll allow me I believe I can fill you in on the details of the disappearances."

The wind was completely taken out of the General's sails. "Yes…yes of course Detective Inspector. Please do sit back down." He suddenly realised that they had a rather fascinated audience. "Why are you all still here? Dismissed. You!"

He pointed a finger at one of the officers, a newly-promoted Captain in the G1/G4 (1) section. The Captain blanched and stepped back clumsily straight into a slender occasional table that held a silver framed photograph of the General's wife, Mrs General. The table rocked precariously and the photograph slid to the edge before falling through the air in dreadfully slow, but almost graceful, motion watched by the horrified onlookers.

Showing a speed that would have impressed many of the Physical Training Instructors in the Garrison, the Captain launched a desperate rescue attempt. He managed to grasp the corner of the frame and straighten the table at the same time. The assembled group let out a collective sigh of admiration and almost felt like applauding. He settled Mrs General back on the table and gave her an affectionate pat before straightening up again.

"Yessir!" He said smartly, coming up to attention.

For a moment it seemed as though the General might actually laugh. The corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably and a strange anguished expression crossed his face and filled his eyes, but then as quickly as it came, it went.

"Tea." He said cryptically.

"T...tea sir?" Stuttered the Captain completely thrown of balance by that one word.

The General's grey brows knitted together. He advanced towards the unfortunate officer who retreated slightly. "Yes tea, pot of. Go and sort out some tea for the Inspector and myself there's a good chap."

The Captain blinked. "Yessir, right away sir." He said and fled out of the room on the heels of the others. He didn't stop to argue his apparent demotion to Tea Boy.

The General sat down in the other chair and smiled charmingly at the Inspector. Anyone who liked Mugger couldn't be all bad. "Now Inspector perhaps you'll be good enough to fill me in on the details. Where are Major Matthews and the others?"

* * *

**On a riverbank somewhere in the general vicinity of the known universe**

"If he says I can't understand it one more time I think I'll throttle him." Kim muttered under her breath as they stood on the banks of a fairly wide fast-flowing river, which gurgled and chuckled its way over a stony river bed. She gazed longingly at the cool clear water and envisioned herself frolicking in it.

The Chief snorted with laughter. "Well look on the bright side. At least we have something to drink now. Even if all signs of civilisation have disappeared."

Gary and Jim were having an earnest conversation a short distance away. The young policeman was now thoroughly upset. He didn't recognise anything, the trees were still wrong and they hadn't come across one single habitation. Chief saw Gary squeeze Jim's shoulder reassuringly then he came over to where Kim and the Chief were sitting on the riverbank. Jim stayed where he was, head hanging low, obviously in great distress.

"How is he?" The Chief asked Gary who shrugged.

"As well as can be expected I suppose for someone who believes that his whole family have disappeared in an earthquake." He said quietly. "What worries me more is the lack of any sign of civilisation whatsoever. No electricity pylons, no mobile phone masts, no tarmac roads of any description. If what Jim says is right and this is right where a village should be, why aren't there any signs anything has ever been here? An earthquake wouldn't just wipe a village off the map without a trace. There would be rubble, ruined houses, fires, dead bodies. So where are they?"

"There are some as would say that the lack of mobile phone masts and electricity pylons is a great improvement." The Chief remarked. "But I must admit that the silence and lack of anything is more than a bit eerie."

"There are no planes." Kim suddenly announced out of the blue. They turned to look at her with bewildered expressions on their faces. She shrugged. "There's normally light aircraft sounds or sounds of distant traffic, cars, even trains. You can hear them over quite a long distance. There haven't been any at all. It's like we're the only people in the world. Nothing else exists."

Neither Gary nor the Chief had time to comment because Jim came running over towards them gesticulating wildly with his hand. "_Get down, get down_." He hissed.

Such was their level of hyper-vigilance they didn't argue, but flung themselves flat in the high reeds and long grass that lined the bank of the river. They lay there in silence, hearts thumping furiously.

After a few moments Gary turned his head looked at Jim enquiringly. "What did you see?" He whispered.

Jim looked at him and Gary could see that the man's eyes were hollow with fear. "They're back." He said.

He didn't need to elaborate further because the objects of his fear had appeared through the drooping willows on the opposite side of the bank. Kim gave a low sob of terror and buried her head in her arms and the Chief groaned softly in despair.

Thadak and his motley crew of Orcs were standing only a river's width away from them.

"Oh Christ on a crutch." Gary cursed under his breath. "That's all we fucking need."

* * *

(1) **G1/G4** – British Military Department dealing with Security and Discipline. 


	11. Enter the Valar

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Chapter 11 – Enter the Valar**

"Any sufficiently advanced technology  
is indistinguishable from magic."  
**Arthur C Clarke**

"What do you make of the tracks?"

"Truly I do not know what to make of them. Apart from the fact that they are Orc tracks and that there is a great deal of confusion among them."

"Are we being followed?"

"If we are then they are undoubtedly going the wrong way. I do not think they know we are even here." Gildor dropped to his haunches and examined the ground intently. "At least one of them is carrying a heavy object." He pointed to a set of tracks that had sunk deeper into the earth than the others. "That in itself is strange. Orcs do not usually carry many supplies. At least not so much that they are weighed down. Unless it is a captive of course."

Erestor sighed and mounted his horse. "I am not sure whether to be relieved that they appear to be going the opposite way or worried in case they are swinging around for an attack on our rear. Either way, we had best get back to the main column and make our report. It may be that the King orders us to track them, but I would have us report it first."

"I agree, I admit that I am curious as to know what they carry with them and why they seem to be so uncertain in their direction. Orcs are not usually given to indecision. If anything they are single-minded and relentless in their objectives, unless they are fighting among themselves." Gildor also mounted and they both spurred their horses back along the track to the main part of Gil-galad's merry band of Elven warriors.

* * *

**Four leagues distant from Erestor and Gildor on the banks of the Sirion.**

"What are they doing?" The Chief whispered.

"Nothing." Gary said. "They're just standing there looking around. I don't think they saw us."

"So we just lie here until they get bored and go away?"

Gary glared over at the Chief. "That's my plan at the moment, unless you have a better one."

The Chief shook his head morosely. "I just feel like a sitting duck here. I think we should make an attempt to move before they decide to take a nice little paddle across the river and explore over here."

"Sir, take a look. One of them has an SA80." Kim's voice was infused with excitement. "It's slung across his shoulder."

Gary cautiously lifted his head and peered through the reeds. Sure enough one of the bandy-legged uglies was sporting a nice assault rifle in plain view. Plain enough for Gary to see that the magazine wasn't attached. The only use it would have in a fight of any kind was as a club, but for all he knew that _was_ the creature's main intention. He was also curious as to why this cross-eyed little fellow was the only one with a rifle. The others still carried their bows, arrows, swords and clubs.

His curiosity was satisfied when their leader, or at least the large one that seemed to be their leader, spat out what sounded like a string of curses at the rifle wielding one. He then knocked him to the ground with such force that Gary heard the creature's neck snap. A large heavy bundle dropped to the ground with a loud clatter and the SA80 slid from his shoulder and rolled down the bank slightly. It came to rest in the long grass next to a large boulder by the water's edge just short of landing in the river itself.

The dead creature's companions had already begun to fall on his lifeless corpse with the clear intention of dismemberment and the leader had to exercise the ever-present violence that passed for his authority to stop them, but in doing so he failed to realise that the weapon was now concealed.

A tiny flicker of hope ignited in Gary's heart when he realised that. He held his breath and watched them as they scuffled with each other and were finally brought to obedience mainly by the flat of the large creature's sword. Unfortunately nothing they said was intelligible so he had no idea _what_ was being said. They spoke in a harsh guttural tongue which no softness to it, instead it was full of hard sounds, spitting consonants and glottal noises. It sounded utterly prehistoric, or what Gary imagined prehistoric speech would have sounded like.

After a short while the leader pointed to the large unwieldy bundle that had fallen near where the dead creature had been standing and gestured at one of the others to pick it up accompanying the gesture with a short sharp bark of command. As he did so Gary spotted the familiar and distinctive grey metal and pale green of the missing assault weapons sticking out of the rough material they were wrapped in.

The leader looked around him one last time, his glittering obsidian gaze swept across the opposite bank and through reeds and grass where Gary and the others lay hidden but even that sharp gaze didn't detect the errant SA80 lying innocently in the grass by the river. He even sniffed the air, as if trying to seek them out by smell, the broad nostrils flaring even wider than they were normally and for a moment the dark brow knitted in confusion as if his senses had betrayed him somehow, then he grunted and turned away.

Gary let out a long low sigh of relief. If it wasn't damaged, then at least they had a weapon and he had a magazine with rounds in it, not to mention the advantage of knowing what to do with it. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

The creature jerked his arm peremptorily at the others and they all crashed back the way they came. Gary saw that the beautiful glowing man was still there with them but was now a lot more worse for wear and had obviously been the target for a vicious beating. He sported livid bruising down one cheek and the shoulder of his tunic was soaked in red, but he was still alive. He ran at the end of his leash, but his head hung low with exhaustion and the lustrous golden hair, now liberally streaked with blood, sweat and dirt, had been tied back with something. A slight shock roiled through Gary as he realised that the man's ears curved gracefully upwards to a delicate and elegant point.

_I think he's an elf sir._ Kim's words back in the hospital came tumbling back into his head making it spin with confusion. Beautiful captive men with pointed ears, primitive cannibalistic creatures stealing modern weapons, woods that changed magically the further they went, lack of any kind of modern civilisation and earthquakes. _Nothing _was making sense any more. It was almost as if they were somewhere else entirely instead of the English countryside and if that was the case, how the hell had they got there?

The first little edge of the plan at the back of his mind to get to civilisation and instigate some sort of search disintegrated into nothing. It was slowly but surely beginning to dawn on him that Jim was absolutely right. Nothing here was as it should be.

Wherever 'here' was.

* * *

**The Halls of Manwe, Oiolosse, Aman**

"Is this wise? For them to be there seems to me to be an unnecessary risk."

"Unnecessary." It was a flat statement rather than a query. "Each decision that has been made regarding the Hither Lands is necessary and carries risks and consequences. We knew this when we heard Earendil and the decision was made to send aid. The consequences have already begun to occur, it is the price for that decision, our last intervention in the affairs of that place. All will be changed."

"And the rending of the fabric between planes of existence? Was this planned?"

Lord Manwe Sulimo, Lord of the Breath of Arda, sighed, leaned his elbow on the arm of the bench he sat on and rested his chin on his hand. A light scented breeze wafted through the open marble halls and caressed Manwe and his wife the Lady Varda Elentari, she who is known to all Elves as Elbereth. It brought a gentle touch of joy to both of them.

"I do not know, but I think not." He said finally and reluctantly. "Yet not all of Eru Iluvator's plan is revealed to me this time and I must seek counsel with him once again."

"I think I begin to see." Varda sat down on the marble bench beside her husband. "It is my belief that the mortals were in the wrong place at the wrong time and the creatures of Morgoth were there because he knew what would happen when the changes began. He knows us too well, my husband. He saw an opportunity to seek a way into a time far in advance of the First Age to gain some advantage in a battle he knows that he must ultimately lose and now that intrusion must be corrected before it wreaks havoc on all and changes things beyond recall. Does Eonwe know of this? He is, after all, in command of the Host."

"Not yet." Manwe admitted. "I had hoped at first that matters would resolve themselves naturally once the earth had settled, but too much has happened now. I will counsel him after I have spoken with Eru. The decision on what to do must rest with him for the moment."

"Can we give the mortals no protection?" Varda stared wistfully out into the far distance.

"We cannot interfere further. Morgoth has already taken advantage of the changes being wrought in Ea for his own ends. Eru has allowed the mortals to pass through, but for what reason is presently hidden from my sight." He touched his wife's hand lovingly. "We must trust to Eru my beloved. There is a deep design in this, I know it in my heart."

Varda smiled and wound her slim fingers in his. "I trust." She said. Her eyes twinkled roguishly. "But that does not mean I cannot light their way a little when all becomes too dark for them to see their path."

Lord Manwe Sulimo laughed softly and brushed a tender kiss over her hair. "Sometimes fleshly bodies have some pleasant uses." He teased, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing each fingertip before letting it go. He stood up with a sigh. "I must seek counsel with Eru. We will continue this later my Lady of Starlight."

Varda watched him walk away, his soft footfalls making no sound on the cool white floors. As he walked he shed the flesh that he and all the Valar used when interacting with the Elda and moving around in their company, yet his shining spirit was still plain to her as it always was. She waited until he had entered consultation with Eru and then turned her attention to the Hither Lands.

A gentle hand sent a light stream of starlight which settled around the four mortals from a different age on the riverbank and concealed them from the evil of Morgoth in the shape of his creatures. It would at least give them time to realise what had happened to them and a brief time to decide upon their next actions.

That much she _could_ do for them.

* * *

**The tent of Eonwe, Herald of Manwe, Commander of the Host of the Valar, somewhere in North Beleriand **

"What troubles you?"

Eonwe glanced up from the table where maps of Ea were spread. "Something is afoot." He admitted. "Four mortals from another time have been admitted to this Age. Mortals who do not belong here, yet it has been allowed and for what purpose we do not know."

Tulcas moved restlessly around the spacious tent. "Manwe has told you this?"

Eonwe nodded. He moved to a small table and poured himself and Tulcas a glass of wine from a flagon kept relatively cool in icy water. Tulcas laughed softly and took the wine, swilling the deep golden liquid around in the goblet and taking a deep appreciative sniff of the bouquet.

"Very nice." He remarked after taking a sip. "Of course this is a complete indulgence on our part, you know? We do not really need sustenance of this kind in order to survive."

Eonwe gave a soft chuckle. "Nevertheless it is one of the nicer aspects of having a fleshly body."

"What do you intend to do about these mortals?"

"I have been told to do nothing as yet and we are not to hinder their progress." Eonwe sighed and took a large gulp of his wine. He shook his head in exasperation. "I have been told that this matter is extraneous to our quest here, but my heart tells me that there is more going on. I have requested permission to go and see these 'wandering mortals' for myself and Lord Manwe has reluctantly given it."

Tulcas frowned. "You will ride all the way back? You command the host Eonwe, to leave them without a leader…"

"Not without a leader." Eonwe interrupted. "Manwe has given permission for me to shed my flesh to travel in spirit and thought. It will take but a few moments to reach them and assess how much of a problem they will be."

"Hmm." Tulcas fixed the Herald with a penetrating gaze. "We do not know their purpose here and you cannot interfere?"

Eonwe shook his head. "No. They are to travel on unhindered and their purpose is part of Eru's plan of which he has not seen fit to enlighten Lord Manwe."

Tulcas put his goblet down and stood up. "You should not go alone. I could travel with you also."

"I cannot leave the host without a leader even for the short time it will take me to travel back to them and return here." Eonwe said firmly. "You must stay and act in my stead, just in case. I do not intend to go alone. I will take Curunir with me."

Tulcas nodded. "As you wish little one." He got to his feet and stretched. "Keeping a fleshly appearance can have its problems. These muscles, flesh and sinews have a way of becoming stiff."

Eonwe raised an eyebrow. "Something that I would have imagined a divine Ainur should be well able to combat without resorting to physical exercises. And please do not call me 'little one'. It makes me sound like an elfling who has just finished sucking at his mother's breast not a powerful Maia and the Herald of Manwe." He finished crossly.

Tulcas' loud rumbling laugh rattled through the tent. "Point taken my Lord Herald." He bowed deeply but looked up with a twinkle in his eyes. "Far be it from me to belittle the Maia who is greatest in arms and the Commander of the Host. Just do one thing for me and be careful please. I will look after the troops while you are gone."

Eonwe gave a reluctant chuckle. "You are worse than a mother hen. I will be fine and back before you know it. And in one piece." He added for good measure.

A tall warrior spoke softly from the tent entrance. "My Lord Eonwe, Curunir is here as you requested."

"Indeed. Show him in. Lord Tulcas was just leaving." He poked Tulcas, who was showing every sign of settling himself back in, with a surreptitious elbow.

Tulcas jumped slightly and gave Eonwe a quizzical smile. "I was? Oh, yes, I was. Just leaving." He shouldered his way past the warrior and left the tent whistling a merry tune.

Moments later a tall white-haired Maia with burning dark eyes entered. "You wished to see me?" His tone was sharp and peremptory and he gave no courtesy to the Herald.

Eonwe felt a flash of irritation. This was ever typical of Curunir, he constantly hovered just on the edge of insolence. An insolence that was more masked when in the company of any of the Valar, but still there. With his fellow Maia he made little effort. However, this time it suited Eonwe to let it go, but his answer gave no more courtesy than he had received. "Yes you will accompany me on a small trip this night and we go in spirit, not fleshly form."

Curunir looked annoyed. "There are many things that I need to prepare before we meet Morgoth it battle. Can this little trip not wait?"

Eonwe drew himself to his full height, which was considerable, and allowed the glow of his being to infuse his physical form. "This is a command Curunir, it is not open for negotiation. Maia of Aule you may be, but under my command here in this place you will obey me without question." His tone was soft, but left Curunir in doubt as to the fact that he expected instant obedience.

"As you command my Lord Herald." Curunir's tone took on a falsely deferential note. He wasn't stupid, he knew when shows of arrogance would not get him anywhere and certainly not with Eonwe, who undoubtedly held a lot more authority than he did.

"Good. We leave after the evening watch has been set. Come here and we will leave quietly." Eonwe settled himself back down at the map table with another goblet of wine. He did not offer Curunir any but instead gave him a diffident wave of the hand. "You have my permission to leave."

Curunir bowed, hand over his heart. His expression was serene, but his dark eyes burned with resentment. Some day he would show them all that he, Curunir, was worthy of being granted power and respect of his own, and not merely that granted by serving the Elder King and he would laugh in the face of that sycophant Eonwe.

He stormed through the camp and warriors scattered nervously left and right, not willing to upset the Maia who, it was rumoured, was capable of some rather dubious and not very pleasant acts.

* * *


	12. Mirror, mirror

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers:**

**Ellfine**: Thanks again for the review. The mean dog actually existed, although he didn't belong to the General, but one of the Retired Officers who worked at what used to be HQ South East District in Aldershot Garrison. I was posted into the HQ as Personal Assistant to the General Officer Commanding the District, a chap by the name of Lt General Sir Richard Swinburne KCB, 11th/21st Lancers after I returned from the Gulf War in 1991. He wasn't the nicest bloke on the block and hell to work for, but since I was only there until discharge at end of service in June 1991 I could put up with it. What I did in this tale was combine the RO's nasty little mutt and the General and hey presto, I had a character! Everybody in that HQ both feared and hated that little pooch. Strangely enough it never attacked women.

Practically all of my original characters are composites of people I have met in my life. I have one of these minds that stores up people's idiosyncrasies and eccentricities. I'm still waiting for an opportunity to slot a delightful old lady I once met on a train a few years ago when going back to camp into a story or one of my books. She had spent her girlhood in the last days of the British Raj in India and kept me enthralled by her stories. All the time she spoke, she knitted furiously and kept dropping stitches. When I gently pointed this out she looked at me over the half glasses she was wearing and said "Oh my dear girl, like most people in the world I've dropped more stitches in my life than I care to recall. You just have to remember to sew the little holes up afterwards." Something told me that she wasn't actually talking about knitting!

Onto the tale…

**Chapter 12 – Mirror, mirror**

"Teamwork is essential -- it gives the enemy other people to shoot at."  
**- Murphys Law of Combat Operations**

The hazy afternoon was beginning to draw to a close; their third afternoon in the wild of the willow wood and food was now non-existent, although the water from the river ran clear, cold and refreshing. Still, both Gary and Chief knew that whilst they could survive on just water for a few days, eventually they would suffer from lack of food. Kim already looked weary and overstretched although she said nothing to anyone and never complained.

Jim was the one who worried Gary the most now. He had been uncharacteristically silent since they had sat down and discussed their situation. In the discussion they had all finally admitted that none of them believed they were still in the Forest of Dean, but as to where they actually were, this was still a complete mystery. Gary believed that it was this admission that finally pushed the young policeman over the edge and it was only Gary's and Chief's assurance that wherever they were, it was so far away from Coleford and Jim's home that there was likely no damage done by the earth tremors had stopped him from having a complete breakdown. Although Gary would have been hard put to justify that opinion with any hard facts. Jim seemed calmer after that, but had not spoken since unless directly spoken to.

The truth was that they were stuck in the middle of 'god only knew' where with no food and nothing to keep them warm. After the prehistoric creatures had left with the weapons and dragging the Elf man behind them, Gary and the others had cautiously left their hiding place. The Chief had volunteered to cross the river and fetch the SA80 and to their delight it was still in reasonable working order. They now had one weapon and a magazine with twenty rounds in it, although Gary had decided that they needed this for protection rather than to hunt with it.

The thing that had unnerved them all the most was the Chief's report that he had no idea how those things hadn't seen them. The reeds had looked thick and concealing from their side of the river, but once over the other side anyone hiding among them was in fairly plain view.

"Perhaps they're naturally short-sighted." Kim suggested, slapping at a couple of midges that had landed on her arm. "No food, but plenty of insect life." She mourned. "They're going to eat me alive."

The Chief gave a snort of laughter. "Better the midges than those creatures."

"That's true." She slipped her combat jacket back on to try and deter them from feeding on her.

"I don't think their leader is short-sighted." Gary said quietly. "Quite the contrary. Still I suppose we'd better just thank our lucky stars that they didn't spot us. Perhaps the sun was in their eyes or something. Our camouflage clothing would have helped too." He took a sip of water from Chief's hip flask and handed it to Jim who drank but said nothing other than offering his thanks. "We need to find some food and tonight we need to make a fire. It's still warm here now despite it being late afternoon, but the temperature drops considerably at night and I think we need to take the risk."

"I agree." Chief stretched his left leg out and massaged the knee, wincing slightly as he did so. "As for food, I would normally suggest hunting some small game, except there isn't any." He looked at Gary. "Did you ever do any survival training Sir?"

Gary nodded. "On the Brecon Beacons (1) . I did it with two SAS (2) blokes and they nearly killed me. It was a toss up which I hated more, them or the weather. I think the weather won by a hair's breadth. It pissed down the entire time, when it wasn't blowing a gale. Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking that between us we might be able to detect which plants and fruits around here are edible and which aren't. I remember that my survival instructor was quite well versed in herbal lore and there are some things you never forget. Being lectured until your brains spill out of your ears is one of them. Somewhere along the line some of that infernal stuff _must_ have sunk in."

"Good idea." Gary gave him an approving look. "What I suggest is that we continue heading along the river and look for likely food items as we go. Judging by where the sun is beginning to go down, we should be heading north."

"North-west." Jim suddenly interrupted. "My watch has a compass on it and if things aren't too screwed up or different here, then we're heading north-west."

Gary smiled at him. "Welcome back, north-west it is. My reasons for heading along the river are because as I said before, settlements and villages are generally built near water. We need a town or some sort of civilisation, however basic it is, to try and get some sort of help. I think we should camp up tonight, make a small fire and find whatever we can to eat; roots, berries, whatever. Tomorrow we start out bright and early and we head along the banks in search of 'friendlies'. We have one weapon, so we're not completely defenceless, but we must assume that those creatures are doing the same as we are so we will probably cross paths again at some stage. We all need to keep our eyes peeled for hostiles."

Kim put her hand up tentatively and Gary raised an eyebrow at her. "Could we…is it possible that we…I could swim in the river Sir? I feel so scruffy and my feet are still a bit sore."

Garry nodded. "Good idea. It's important for us to stay as clean as we can in case of blisters, small cuts or whatever. Infection can set in pretty quickly and we have no first aid kit, no antiseptic and no access to modern medical facilities. We'll have three bathing parties. Ladies first, of course." He gave Kim a little bow and she grinned at him. "Sgt Freeman, you can have the first party and we'll all turn our backs to preserve your maidenly modesty, but we do need to stand guard on those bathing. Chief and Jim will go next and I will go last."

"Segregated bathing for officers and ladies?" Chief remarked with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Kim's maidenly modesty I can understand, but what do _you_ have that's different to the rest of us sir?"

They all laughed, including Jim. Gary had the grace to blush. "I have no defence to make other than I'm perfectly normal in all respects and have nothing different to any other bloke. Unless we're talking about size of course, then we _all_ know that officers have much more in that area, the extra length and girth comes from the brains they remove from us at Sandhurst (3) . It's generally considered among the ranks that most officers keep their brains in their balls anyway."

Chief nodded sagely. "That's what I said sir, no brains and big bollocks." He turned to Kim who was giggling furiously. "You just keep your gaze averted Miss Freeman, especially when Major Balls…er Matthews, is cavorting naked in the water. We don't want any eyes being poked out."

Kim collapsed in hysterics; Gary and Jim chuckled.

"_I'm sure it wouldn't be her eyes I'd be aiming for_." Gary said _sotto voce_ with a sly grin. Everyone howled with laughter and Kim blushed even more at the inference. "So it's settled then. We find a likely place to camp, see what food items we can scrape up from the land and while Kim is bathing we can make a fire so that at least we have somewhere to warm up once we're all clean. We have no towels remember and I would suggest we try to avoid putting dry clothes over wet bodies."

"And we'll just ignore the fact that we're putting filthy clothes on clean bodies." Chief quipped.

Gary shook his head. "I didn't say it was ideal Chief." He said mildly. "But until we can locate some alternative clothing and get this stuff clean, it's all we can manage."

"We could wash the stuff." Kim suggested. "But we'd need a nice warm sunny day and we'd have to just wait around until they dried. In olden times they used to beat laundry against the rocks, they didn't have laundry detergent or soap."

Gary sighed. "Another good idea, but I think we'll go a bit further on tomorrow and see if we hit a village of some kind. If not, then we take a day and do as Kim suggests."

Chief cast a glance at Kim. She was busy picking a scab off her arm and he slapped her hand away making her look up in indignation. "Leave it alone young lady or I'll tie your fucking hands up." He threatened. "If you make that raw and get it infected I'll be bloody annoyed."

"As will I." Gary said sternly and Kim blushed furiously at being caught out. "Let's head further along and find somewhere to camp before the light goes. Chief, would you take Tail-end Charlie again?"

Chief nodded. "On the understanding that should our disgusting friends double back on us and stab me from behind I reserve the right to haunt you for the rest of your life."

"Consider it understood Chief." Gary grinned. He hefted the SA80 onto his arm, snapped the magazine in place and they resumed their path along the river.

The Chief caught at Kim's arm as they walked and she gave him a querying look. "What's up sir?"

Now it was the Chief's turn to blush. "Well, I don't know how to put this except directly. When was the date of your last period?"

Kim looked outraged. "Chief! That's _very_ personal."

"Yes I know, but since I haven't seen a Boots the Chemist (4) anywhere for the last few willow trees and bends in the river, I'm assuming that sanitary towels or tampons will be in pretty short supply around here. We need to think ahead."

Her face fell as the stark realisation of her predicament hit her. "Oh fuck."

"Precisely." Agreed the Chief with a small smile. "But I don't think fucking will help our situation, although getting pregnant would certainly put paid to the monthly bleeding! Not that I am offering you understand, happily married man and all that."

"I remember seeing some programme where they said that women in olden days used special cloths which they washed and re-used." She shuddered slightly. "It all sounds so disgusting and primitive."

"Primitive, but practical. We need to get some cloth from somewhere to rip up then. Let's give it some thought and see what we come up with. Now, when was your last period?"

She thought for a moment, counted off on her fingers and her face lightened a bit. "Unless the shock of all this brings it on early, then I have another six days before I'm due again."

A feeling of relief spread over the Chief. "Good, at least that gives us a bit of breathing space before we need to worry. As for the shock bringing it on, it might be just as likely to stop them altogether. Just keep an eye on things and come to me if there's a problem. I've got daughters and I'm more likely to understand than those two buggers ahead of us."

Kim nodded. "I will." On impulse she reached up and kissed Chief on the cheek. "Thank you Chief, you're a doll."

Now it was _his_ turn to blush.

* * *

**The throne room of Morgoth, Thangorodrim**

Even from as far north as the Iron Mountain where Morgoth had created Thangorodrim, the shadow cast forth by his evil intent crept with eldritch fingers and insinuated itself into the places of light.

The Host of the Valar had driven much of this evil before them it was true, yet what was left behind was not cleansed of all of it. Pockets of the shadow still lay over the land, causing a fell air and oppressive atmosphere in places that had been previously been filled with growth, cleanliness and luminance.

The tramp of iron-clad feet and the animal-like cruelty and lust of his Orcs did not help matters and there were still parties of them roaming around where Eonwe and his warriors had swept through. They were just not as numerous as before.

Thadak and his minions were one of these parties. They had concealed themselves from the fierce and unbearably fair Elven warriors with their long shining spears, bows and curved knives. Morgoth, whilst seeking some weakness in the armour of the host, came upon them by chance and sent an emissary with new orders for them. An emissary who could shed his flesh like the Maiar of Aman quite simply because he _was_ a Maiar.

At the same time the changes in the very essence of Ea became crystal clear to Morgoth. As he observed the fabric that divided the worlds begin to grow transparent, certain aspects of the other world also became crystal clear and he saw his opportunity to act. He saw the group of soldiers, he saw that one was female, he also saw their weapons and was amazed at the power and simplicity of the concept. His orders to Sauron, his Lieutenant, were clear and the orders passed down to Thadak were equally clear.

They were to pass through the fabric where two worlds collided, seek out the weapons of that world and bring them back. They were also to capture one of the Elven warriors with golden hair, one of the Vanyar, and bring him back also for the purpose of breeding and experiment. They could do as they wished with the mortals from the other world and use the female as they wished.

Clearly, things had gone very wrong. The female had avoided capture, albeit unknowingly, and had sought assistance from the rest of her kind. Instead of leaving immediately before the tremors which had subsequently sealed the split in the fabric between worlds rent the earth in the other world, the fools had lingered, still seeking the prize of the female. She had brought back others in pursuit of the weapons and all had been thrown together, with the mortals now on the wrong side of the barrier. As a result of this series of events, Thadak and his people were now confused and lost. Almost as confused and lost as Gary and his tiny group were.

A veil which not even Morgoth had been able to penetrate or dissipate, had been thrown around the woods and was preventing them from leaving with their booty. It also had the effect of preventing the mortals from leaving, but that was neither here nor there. Morgoth had no interest in them beyond the fact that they knew how to make the weapons work and he was assured that there were those among his followers who could soon find that out. He assumed that, puny as they undoubtedly were, the mortals would soon fall prey to the cruelty of what he felt was the superior group or even just inability to survive without resources.

He had been wrong. They had proved unreasonably resilient and resourceful and Morgoth saw his advantage slipping away like so much sand through his fingers.

The Dark One's rage could be both heard and felt throughout Thangorodrim. Orcs, prisoners and Maiar alike cringed and tried to make themselves small and unnoticeable. He summoned Sauron immediately and they went into conference.

"We must seek a way to break through the veil thrown around the woods so that Thadak can bring the weapons and the Elf to you." Sauron said. "There may be those near whose darker thoughts can be used to carry your intent, create a channel for your…ah…_suggestions_. We must seek them out. Perhaps the younger mortal male. His thoughts are black indeed. The grief he carries has settled around him like a dark mantle."

Morgoth sat back on his throne, the remaining Silmarils still glowed in the crown on his head but the light had a reddish look to it, as though his deep evil had contaminated the pure white light of the Two Trees, Laurelin and Telperion, which Feanor had encapsulated in the gems. A gaping indentation in the Iron Crown showed where the Silmaril recovered by Beren and Luthien had once rested.

His laugh was not a pleasant sound. "Indeed you are right. Perhaps the young mortal _would_ serve as an appropriate channel.

However now, as he watched the spirits of the Maiar Eonwe and Curunir approach the place where the mortals had camped, the discontent and ambition of the one called Curunir shone as clearly to Morgoth as did Eonwe's inherent purity.

A hiss of satisfaction escaped through the mask of a face that Morgoth wore. Using the Maia of Aule, sent by that puling fool Manwe from that accursed isle, as a channel would be so much more successful than using a mere mortal. The core of blackness that ran through the one who accompanied the Herald ran fathoms deep and, as Morgoth's rage had swept through his stronghold and caused fear, his laughter now echoed and that fear became unspeakable and too hideous to contemplate.

Sauron saw all and made obeisance to his dark master. Ambition and a lust for great power sat like a black spider in his heart also, however if he had nothing else, he had time and immense patience.

His chance for greatness and power would come. Perhaps not as soon as he would have wished, but it _would_ come.

* * *

**The tent of Eonwe, North Beleriand**

Eonwe sat alone in his darkened tent. Only the soft blue glow from one of the special lamps invented by the Noldor illuminated the immediate area where he was seated and for that he was grateful. It meant that if anyone did seek entrance they would not see the expression of dull shock he was sure still lurked in the back of his eyes.

The trip to see the 'wandering mortals' as he had come to think of them had been relatively uneventful at first, although Curunir had been a sullen companion. The trouble had arisen when Eonwe had caught a glimpse of one of the mortals as he stepped out of the shadow briefly from his position as guard.

At first Eonwe only had the impression of a tall man dressed in strange clothing. Even as he moved into a slim beam of light cast down through the trees by a high yellow moon, his face was illuminated only for a moment and the facial features were hidden in shadow again almost immediately.

The mortal had turned with an expression of concern, as though he had heard something suspicious.

"Who's there?" His voice was deep and quite melodious especially for one of the secondborn. His speech was strangely accented yet Eonwe found he could understand most of what he was saying. "Step forward and identify yourself." He demanded and for a moment Eonwe wondered what the mortal would do if he clad himself in flesh and suddenly appeared before him.

Then he noticed that he had something cradled in his arms. A something that he lifted to his shoulder and pointed into the darkness in the general direction of where Eonwe hovered.

"Identify yourself or I'll open fire." He said softly but in an unmistakable tone of command.

Eonwe cast around hastily for Curunir, but he had moved over to look at the others who were asleep. He felt slightly bewildered, surely the mortal could not see him?

Then the man stepped fully into the moonlight that flooded through a gap in the canopy of trees above and if Eonwe had possessed lungs and vocal chords at that moment he wouldn't have been able to prevent a hiss of surprise and shock from escaping.

The man's face was plain to see in the moonlight and it was like looking into a mirror image of himself in fleshly form.

* * *

**Brecon Beacons**, North Wales. An area used as a training ground by the British Military. Known for its inhospitable and very inclement weather in winter.

**SAS **– Special Air Services, British Army special forces unit

**Sandhurst **– Royal Military Academy in Camberley, Surrey, England. A training school for officers.

**Boots the Chemist**, a well known chain of pharmacists in the United Kingdom.


	13. Once more unto the breach

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Note to reviewer:**

**Ellfine**: I think you're my lone reviewer. Sorry for the delay between chapters but real life took over for a while! I get the quotes from the internet. There are hundreds of quote sites.

**Chapter 13 – Once more unto the breach**

"The enemy ALWAYS times his attack to the second you  
drop your trousers in the latrine"  
**- Murphys Law of Combat Operations  
**

"So. Did I hear you challenge someone or something last night?" The Chief tried to make his enquiry sound casual whilst he and Gary were having a lick and a promise down at the river's edge. Kim currently had the weapon and was standing guard with it while Jim was busy obliterating any signs that anyone had camped in the vicinity.

Gary said nothing for a moment. The incident during the night had shaken him more than he cared to admit, but more for the fact that he wasn't quite sure what had happened than anything else. Finally he sighed and shook the droplets of water off his hair. "I _thought_ I saw something." He admitted. "Or someone. It was very strange. I got the impression of a tall man standing in the trees yet when I stepped forward and challenged him he had gone."

"Perhaps it was just the shadows cast by the trees." The Chief suggested. "After all it's pretty dark in these woods without any light other than starlight or moonlight. We're so used to the glow from the electric light from cities, towns that we don't realise just how dark it can be without modern forms of illumination."

Gary bit his lip and looked up at the older man. "I don't think it was the trees Chief. But if there _was_ someone there, why didn't he come forward when I spoke to him?"

"He could have been just as wary of us as we are of him. It might have even been our flesh-eating friends."

Gary shook his head. "I don't think it was any of them. He was…" He hesitated and the Chief waited patiently. "Well he was sort of transparent."

"Like a ghost?"

"I suppose so." Gary said reluctantly. "But I don't believe in ghosts."

The Chief got up and dried his hands on his combat trousers. "Neither do I sir." He nodded at the troubled Major and looked back up the bank to where Kim was standing holding the assault rifle in her arms and looking distinctly ill at ease. "I guess we'll be heading on up the river in short while. In the meantime, I think I'll go and relieve Sgt Freeman so that she can come and freshen up. She looks like she might shoot someone's foot off if they breathe the wrong way."

Gary looked over to where Kim was standing on guard. Her whole demeanour was one of 'shoot first and ask questions later' and he laughed. "Probably a good idea Chief. It wouldn't do for her to start a friendly fire incident between the Police and the Army by accidentally shooting an officer of the law in the arse."

The Chief let out a crack of laughter and trudged up the bank sweeping the reeds aside with one hand to make a passage through them for himself.

Gary stared down at his reflection in the water. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, a fleeting impression of something that refused point-blank to anchor itself in his memory.

His musing was only interrupted by the somewhat distracting arrival of Kim who gave him a shy smile and then knelt down to see to her own ablutions. Thoughts of the previous night slipped into the background as he found himself staring at the smooth bare skin on the back of her neck between her shirt collar and where her fair hair was scrunched up into a ponytail.

He was mildly unnerved to discover that he had an overwhelming desire to kiss it.

* * *

The place where the small group had spent the night had not been a clearing; it was more a fairly large space between the trees deliberately chosen for the cover it had offered them. The willows had conveniently grown their branches even lower than usual and they had formed a sort of deep green cave of leaves that offered some protection from the cool night breezes and concealment from prying eyes. 

It had apparently not been concealing enough, however.

The Chief looked around to see if any of the others were watching him, but they were all otherwise occupied. Jim had doused the fire, swept the area with a dead branch and was now busy brushing down his jacket. Chief could see the Major and Kim still down at the water. She was washing her face and Gary was sitting quite still watching her, or he could have been chatting. From this distance and trying to peer through a veil of willow leaves, it was difficult to tell.

After casting a quick look around to make sure that nobody else was lurking in the undergrowth, the Chief walked over to where Gary had been standing on guard the previous evening.

The long grass was slightly trampled by feet wearing heavy boots, but that could have been any of them. However, underneath the large old looking willow directly opposite to where Gary had stood, the grass looked as though it had been disturbed slightly.

Chief's eyes narrowed and he bent down to examine the grass. Sure enough, some of the blades had been bent, as though someone had been there. The strange thing was that there was no indication that whoever had been there had walked away. No telltale signs of the passage of feet, at least not the iron clad feet of their nemesis across the river.

Yet someone had been there without a doubt.

_The plot thickens_. He thought to himself. He wasn't at all convinced that their nocturnal visitor was either human or friendly and he would have been happier had there been no evidence of any visitation. The notion that perhaps one of those creatures, or something worse, had been watching silently while they slept and was then able to swiftly conceal themselves after they had been spotted was unnerving to say the least. And yet the evidence didn't seem to have the hallmarks of their cannibalistic friends somehow. Surreptitious surveillance didn't seem to be quite their style.

He resolved to double his vigilance. They were being stalked and watched, apparently by someone other than those awful creatures, and he didn't like the idea one little bit.

* * *

**The tent of Eonwe somewhere in North Beleriand **

"What do you mean he had your face?"

Eonwe stopped his restless pacing around the large tent for a moment. "I don't know how many ways there are to say it." He sounded irritated. "One of the mortals had my face."

Tulcas gave him an amused, indulgent look. "Realistically it's not_ your_ face, at least in the sense that you weren't born with it. In fact you weren't born at all. You sprang from the music, as we all did. Neither Valar nor Maiar are actually born in the true sense of the word. Your preferred form is merely a clothing of flesh over your fea to please the sensibilities of those mortals and Elves around you."

"Be that as it may, when I looked into his face as he stood in the moonlight it was as though I was looking at myself. I do not understand this. Why would he look like me? There must be more to this than we have been told." Eonwe resumed the pacing.

"Oh sweet Eru, will you stop pacing around like a caged animal? You are making my head spin. Let me see what the others say." Tulcas casually crossed one leg over the other and stared into the distance. He looked for all the world as if he was thinking of having a nap. Eonwe was on the point of snapping out that he was not pacing but could see the Vala's usually bright blue eyes cloud over and knew that he was in communion with one or more of the Valar. It worried him more than he cared to admit that his Lord may not have told him everything about the mortals and he was also concerned that this was something sent to waste his time and distract him from his task of defeating Morgoth and dragging him back in chains.

He waited while Tulcas consulted his fellow Valar and strove to hide his impatience. Part of him wanted to just go back, reveal himself and take the mortals into custody but he knew that the only reason he and Curunir were able to penetrate the veil in the first place was because they had gone in a non-corporeal form. In that form they could not interact with solely corporeal beings, they could merely observe.

Just when he felt he couldn't contain himself any longer Tulcas' eyes cleared and he grinned apologetically at his companion. "I apologise for the long wait my young friend. Manwe was given no information as to who the mortals are or why one of them should resemble your fleshly form. He will consult with Eru."

Eonwe sat down heavily on a stool as if all the air had been expelled from his body leaving him utterly deflated. "I do not like this state of affairs." He said in a low voice. "Could it be Morgoth's doing?"

Tulcas shrugged. "Manwe feels it may have happened as a result of the series of unfortunate incidents that has caused their world to collide with ours. Morgoth has taken advantage of the situation caused by the instability of the land. Which _is_, of course, our doing. However, on the positive side, his minions are also trapped within the veil. They are currently all confined to the woods of Nan Tathren and going around in circles."

"And if they manage to escape by some strange freak of fate?" Eonwe was having a hard job keeping the sarcasm out of his voice.

"That will hardly be some freak of fate and will only be the case if Morgoth has found a way to penetrate the veil." Tulcas said quietly. "And if that happens then we may well have a very pressing problem on our hands since we do not yet know what Morgoth intended when he allowed his Orcs to cross to the other side of the fabric between the worlds."

A noise at the tent opening alerted them to the respectful presence of the tall Vanyarin warrior who was assigned as a sort of batman to Eonwe. At a sign from the Herald, he entered and bowed courteously, one hand over his heart. "What is it?" Eonwe asked and managed to conjure up one of his devastating smiles.

The young Elf glowed with pleasure. "We are ready to strike camp my Lord Herald. There are those waiting without to take down the tent and pack it up." He bowed again, much lower this time. Eonwe wondered how many bows it would take before he was abased in front of him and squashed the chuckle that rose up with great difficulty. He put a hand on the young Elf's shoulder in friendly fashion. "There is no need to bow every time you speak to me pen tithen. It will save us both time if you just speak your piece."

The Elf blushed and Tulcas' booming laugh rang out. "Well Eonwe if this young one is going to pull the tent down around our ears we had better make shift, unless you want to be packed up in the baggage carts along with the tent poles. I'd call that leading from the rear." He strode out of the tent guffawing loudly at his own joke as he went and those nearby chuckled at the sound of his infectious laughter.

Eonwe rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his head in mock despair. He smiled at the warrior again. "Thank you. The tent will be all theirs to do with as they wish shortly."

The warrior hid his huge grin. "Yes my Lord." He left the tent and Eonwe picked up his sword and slipped it into the scabbard. His concerns had not been resolved, but he had an army to command and Morgoth needed to be brought to heel before he could perpetrate any more malice or mischief.

* * *

**Back in the woods of Nan Tathren  
**  
The subjects of Eonwe's concern had their own troubles to worry about. Staying alive under a hail of arrows had to be foremost in their minds. 

"I thought they'd gone." Kim's face had taken on a white, pinched look and Gary had to fight down the urge to go to her. Instead he checked the weapon and took aim, squinting through the sight.

Jim rolled towards the Chief as one of the arrows thudded into the ground mere inches from his leg. "The buggers are determined to pierce some part of me." He commented mournfully.

"Where the hell are all these damn arrows coming from?" Chief sounded more aggravated than afraid. "Surely they have to run out of supplies some time. Can you get a trace on them sir?" He called out in a low voice to Gary.

"I can hardly miss them at this range." Gary said. "It's more a question of ammo. I don't want to waste it."

"Fuck that." Gary looked over the weapon at Chief and raised an eyebrow. The Chief looked completely unrepentant. "Look at it this way sir. If we run out of ammo but kill them all, then we get the main bundle of weapons anyway and we're rid of our stalkers at least. If the magazines aren't with the weapons, then they aren't going to do us a whole lot of good and getting the bloody things back to the armoury is the least of my worries. Avoiding ending up as the main course on their dinner menu has long since taken over. Shoot the fuckers."

Gary gave a low chuckle. "I like your style Chief." He squinted through the sight again looking for the big guy in charge, but all he could see was the rest of them gaily taking aim with their black bows.

"What happens when they run out of arrows?" Kim asked, desperately trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

"I think it means that they decide to paddle across the river." Jim whispered back. He shifted position slightly, rolling onto part of the uniform jacket that he hadn't actually worn since they had entered the woods. A hard edge of something in one of the pockets poked into him and he gingerly felt around to see what it was.

Even before he drew it out, he remembered the strange looking ornamental dagger that the Inspector had handed to him before he had set out with Gary and the others to the crime scene what seemed like centuries ago. Momentary embarrassment flooded him as he realised that he hadn't done what had been asked of him. He was supposed to have taken the knife and put it with the rest of the evidence before going to the woods, but instead he had slipped it into his pocket thinking that he could do it afterwards just as well.

He slowly drew the bag containing the dagger out of the jacket pocket and opened it. A flash of brightness almost blinded him as the sun caught the shiny metal.

"Put it down lad." The Chief's voice hissed across even as Gary took aim at the creature that had been assigned to lead the blond man around. There was no sign of the man.

Jim looked over at the Chief who gave him a reassuring smile. "If you keep waving that shiny thing around you might as well light a bloody great beacon over your head with a sign saying 'target is right here boys, come and get me'."

Gary squeezed the trigger and the shot rang out with a sharp crack that echoed through the woods. The bandy-legged foul looking creature slowly fell backwards with a neat hole in his forehead and a look of eternal surprise on his ugly features.

Everything stopped with that one shot. The dead creature's companions fell completely silent and stared at the prone body in astonishment. Gary didn't give them a chance to resume firing. He aimed at one of the others and another shot split the silence. The creatures that remained all swung around to look at the other body in one movement reminiscent of some macabre dance sequence.

This time the shot had been a little lower down and most of the dead creature's mouth and lower jaw had been obliterated. One of the creatures let out a loud squawk of terror and turned tail, crashing through the trees. After only a few seconds his noisy flight stopped abruptly and his companions looked at each other with something very close to trepidation. And with very good reason.

Thadak suddenly appeared. The sword that hung at his side glistened with fresh dark and viscous blood, which left nobody in any doubt as to the fate of the creature who had tried to flee. Thadak had the bundle of weapons under one arm and was dragging the blond man with him. As the man staggered drunkenly into view the rope was jerked viciously. Thadak pulled him up close and Gary could see through the enhanced vision of the sight that he was snarling like an animal, only millimetres away from that beautiful face. Gary had to give the blond man his due. He didn't flinch or draw back from that hideous face; instead he regarded his captor calmly. With a snarl of fury Thadak backhanded him away and he crumpled to the ground in a senseless heap. Gary didn't see him move again and even with enhanced vision couldn't tell if the man was alive or dead.

For some reason the sight of that crumpled form enraged Gary more than anything so far. He singled out the tall form of Thadak and aimed, determined to put an end to this obscene parody of a living creatures but it disappeared behind cover almost as if it knew it was being targeted. As it did so it snarled a command to its surviving minions and they all dove for cover as well, leaving both the weapons and the blond man unguarded. The shot whined harmlessly over their heads and embedded itself in a tree trunk. Gary cursed. Shooting the creatures was one thing; wasting one of the valuable rounds was another.

He turned to face the others. "Did anybody manage to count how many of them are left?"

"Four including the big' un I reckon." Chief peered cautiously around the rock that was giving him most of his cover. "But I reckon if we can hold out that big fella'll take care of the rest of them for us as soon as they try to run away!"

* * *

It seemed for the moment that they were at an impasse. The creatures were too afraid to get up and run away because Thadak would kill them. They were too afraid to stay where they were for fear that the humans would kill them with the spitting fire-stick. 

On the other side of the river, Gary and the others only had one means of protecting themselves and eventually that would run out of ammunition.He wondered how long it would take for the leader of the creatures to work that one out. The weapons had been in their hands for quite a while now and it was hard to imagine that they hadn't examined them at some stage and worked out that the magazines carried the means to deal instant death. Or was he attributing them with a logic they simply didn't possess?

What was clear was that sooner or later either one or the other group would have to make a move.

* * *


	14. Between birth and death, there is life

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Note to reviewer:**

**Ellfine:** I know exactly what you mean. When I first read fan fiction I didn't review either. I felt that because those writers were fans like me I didn't have the right to comment on whether I thought their work was good or bad. It was only when I started writing original work that I realised that my experiences with publishers and editors gave me a voice and that others might benefit from the things I have learnt. Now I do review, but if I read something that is worth reading, such as your story and Phantom Bard's work, I will often just say how much I am enjoying reading it and perhaps ask questions about things that interest me. I am currently reading Phantom Bard's rather absorbing and undoubtedly well-written epic on this archive and will comment when I'm done reading it! However when something _is_ absolutely dreadful, I do leave a constructive criticism if I can, although sometimes that's simply not possible.

As I said at the outset of this story, I'm not going to demand that people read and review before I write another chapter. I'm having far too much fun playing with Eonwe, Tulcas and my OC's and weaving a story around them to worry about it. This story is as much for my personal enjoyment as anything else and if others read and like, then that's a bonus.

**Ala:** Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate the comments. Hopefully it will continue to make sense.

**Chapter 14 – Between birth and death, there is life.**

"They say that 'guns don't kill people, people kill people'.  
Well I think the gun helps. If you just stood there and yelled, "BANG"  
you wouldn't kill too many people."  
**Eddie Izzard, Dressed to Kill**

Frederic Nietzsche once said 'Battle not with monsters lest ye become a monster and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you'. The young Vanyarin elf Rion had never heard of Nietzsche, but he would have understood exactly where he was coming from.

In the heat of battle many things happen, but mostly it is as if you were in a microcosm; a little world of things happening immediately around you. Your primary concern is to deal with things that are thrown at you so that you can stay alive. The rest of it – your family, your life back home, the rest of the world even – pale into insignificance beside this motivating force.

The noise of a battlefield could be unbearable if it weren't for that little vacuum you exist in. In modern times, battle is full of gunfire, explosions and noises of all kinds interspersed with deathly silences in which you can hear the cries of the wounded and the shouted orders of officers and senior NCOs or the strange garbled noises through radios. The smoke from seemingly unquenchable fires is thick and acrid. It stings the eyes and clogs the nose, fear manifests itself in a metallic taste at the back of the tongue and throat and yet the soldier carries on, ever mindful of duty first.

Soldiers wrap a mantle of duty around themselves as a form of protection and don't allow themselves to think about the consequences of any action they may be forced to take. In this way, and only this way, can they deal with the ultimate moral crime of the killing of other human beings. If they didn't do this, then conscience and moral values would take over and they wouldn't be able to function as soldiers.

To this end, modern soldiers are constantly desensitised to killing by their superiors. The enemy is never referred to as anything other than 'the enemy'. To give them a country or a nationality or any human attributes is to admit that they are fellow humans. Soldiers will often find their own words, usually derogative, to describe the people they fight. 'Jerries', 'Gooks', 'Ragheads'; the list is endless.

For Rion and his comrades in arms there was little need for this kind of desensitisation, or so it was thought. The orcs were creatures that arose from the malice and envy of Morgoth who was the personification of all that was evil in Arda Marred and could not be considered to be like elves or men. Likewise the Balrogs of Morgoth; although these last were Maiar like Eonwe, Curunir and the others of their order, this was where the similarity ended. Those Maiar who had chosen to follow Morgoth were now as corrupt as their master. There was no goodness from the music left within them.

In this way the line between murder and justifiable slaughter was made crystal clear. Morgoth's creatures could be killed with impunity simply because they _were_ evil and consequently without souls or feä.

"Whither does their feä fly on death?" A puzzled young Vanyarin had asked on the passage over to Arda Marred.

"Nowhere, or at least nowhere that we are privy to." Was the firm answer. "There is no evidence that they even have feä. They are simply creatures bred to Morgoth's evil intent and they are wholly evil."

In this way the warriors from the Blessed Isle were convinced that not only was this war a necessary evil to rid Arda of Morgoth once and for all, but also that they were, in fact, doing a service to his evil and inhuman servants by killing them. Consequently, when they disembarked at Brithumbar on the coast of Beleriand, they shone bright and fierce with the intensity of justifiable and justified wrath.

Now, seven years further on, after having spent most of that time routing out massive groups of the servants of the enemy, the shininess was beginning to fray a little around the edges. In the midst of battle it was now only possible to separate ally from enemy by the look in the eye and the kind of weapons and armour worn. However even the shiniest of armour can be covered in both black and red blood. At the beginning the bright golden hair of the Vanyar had shone like a beacon, but now that beacon was dulled with the exigencies of battle, skirmishes and the slow but steady march northwards toward the final target.

The eyes have it all, they are the windows to the soul. Much can be told from an expression, yet in up close and personal hand to hand combat which is often necessary; a soldier seldom dares to look into the eyes of their adversary. Instead they repeat the litany of 'the enemy' over and over to themselves in an attempt to overrule the series of moral values they were taught as children by their parents and society. To look into the eyes of the person you kill is to court madness. If you do look then the eyes of the first person you kill are the first things you see when you wake up in the morning and the last things you see when you go to sleep at night. They will live with you until the day you draw your last breath.

Best not to look.

In their own way ancient battles, despite there being none of the explosions and gunfire of their modern counterparts, were just as filled with noise, fear, smoke and confusion.

At the end of the day, killing for peace is neither a chivalrous nor a gloriously shining thing filled with self-righteousness and justification. It is an exhausting, bloody, noisy, dirty and lethal thing.

Killing for peace is like fucking for chastity.

When Rion and the other young ellyn had been taught the art of sword fighting, the Swordmaster had impressed upon the group the elegance and beauty of movement incorporated in the various parries, swings and arcs together with the co-ordinated movements of the body and feet. He had described it as an incomparable dance rather than a necessity in order to defend oneself. Truly, since the departure of Melkor and the Kinslayers there had been no need to teach the art of weapons for defence, therefore it was taught in much the same way as the dance mistresses taught the young ellyth how to move in the ethereal yet joyous dances that were habitually performed for the delight of everyone present at festivals and parties. Swordsmanship was taught as a part of culture rather than an art of war.

Indeed when the males practised their intricate sword fighting moves under the watchful and stern eye of the Swordmaster, the young ellyth would gather around the edge of the area, giggling softly behind hands and casting veiled glances at the objects of their admiration. They constantly had an eye to the curve of smooth muscled thighs and arms or the dance of golden hair woven into one long braid down the back to keep it out of the way.

More love had blossomed and been pledged in that practice area than in any of the festivals, gardens, beaches and private living areas combined. Rion himself had a number of admirers but had yet to meet the elleth who would ultimately capture his heart and soul.

Now, many of those ellyth would be grieving for the loss of their beloved on battlefields on what was, to them at least, foreign soil. So many had watched the warriors sail and given the tokens of their love. So many would now wait in vain for the return of those warriors and could only hope that Mandos would be kind and allow rebirth before too long.

As the battle raged around him, Rion took a moment to wonder what the Swordmaster and those ellyth would say about the perfection and flawless technique required to be a good swordsman now.

That was in a fantasy world. This was now and real.

Oh, he _had_ tried to assign the lessons learned in the practice area when the Host joined in battle against the first enemy group, he really had. He had pirouetted and twirled gracefully and swung the sword in the perfect arc, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of that sword biting into living flesh or the speed at which the killing commenced. He simply hadn't expected the creatures' flesh, bone and sinew to provide so much resistance and he hadn't bargained for the absolute steadfast enmity and determinedness of an enemy who was just as set on living as Rion was of depriving him of that life.

While he was struggling to pull the sword back out through bone, muscle and flesh, the dying orc was still biting and slashing at him savagely and if he had been the only one doing it Rion would have managed just fine. However, real life is what happens when you're making other plans and the reality of battle is that there are umpteen enemy out there who each have your swift death on the top of their 'things to do today' list.

As he finally drew the sword out and the orc slumped to the ground in a heap he had no time to reflect on the situation and certainly no time to chastise himself for a lack of technique. He was immediately flanked by two more orcs with the result that panic and self-preservation took over. By the end of the skirmish he was hacking, slashing, yanking hair, headbutting and smacking heads using the flat of his sword with the best of them.

What price the perfect elegance of the swordfighting dance?

A massive blow to his shield brought him back to the here and now. He staggered under the onslaught and fell to his knees, sword clattering out of his hand. Holding one arm over his head to try and shield himself he looked up and fruitlessly groped for his sword at the same time. His mouth dropped open in shock as the biggest and ugliest orc he had ever seen loomed over him huge sword lifted overhead and already arcing down to cleave him in two. Rion gulped and tried to roll aside only to find a pile of dead orcs and elves in his way. He prepared himself to receive the call from Mandos and closed his eyes and ears to the snarl and expression of triumph as his adversary started the killing blow.

And nothing happened.

A strong hand gripped him by the arm instead and hoisted him to his feet. Friendly grey eyes twinkled at him in a slender face framed by dark hair in warrior braids. The Noldorin elf who he had met on the march a couple of days earlier dusted him down and handed him his sword.

"I think this belongs to you, and you must have a shield around here somewhere…" He glanced around and spotted it lying a few feet away under the dead orc. "Ah, there we are." He shoved the orc aside, put the shield firmly back on Rion's arm and stood back like a dressmaker assessing his finest creation. "I think you will do, but if you take my advice young one, you will not lose concentration in the middle of a battle again lest you wish to make an early visit to the Halls of Waiting. Although I hear it's very nice there at this time of year." He winked boldly at Rion and swungaround to rejoin the fray.

Rion watched in fascination as the Noldo pivoted gracefully, swung and slashed his way through the enemy and sang an Elven battle chant as he did so in a clear silvery voice. Despite the fact that he was being every bit as brutal as his opponents, there was a fire about his movements that lent an air of grace to the killing blows he was dealing out. To Rion he looked like poetry in motion and the young Vanyarin could only wish that he looked as graceful.

A moment later he was defending himself a lot less gracefully against two orc warriors. He managed to dispatch one of them by decapitating him, but the other one dealt a blow to his sword arm numbing it from shoulder to fingertip. The sword dropped from his nerveless fingers and he only just managed to swing his shield around in time to prevent himself being cloven in two by a heavy axe.

Dazed with pain and exhaustion he knelt with the shield over him, but once again the killing blow never came. Instead the handsome face of Eonwe himself peered over the top of the shield. "Thank Eru you are alive. I thought he had you for a moment." He stared sharply into Rion's slightly glazed eyes and then held out his hand. "You are in pain and exhausted child. There is no dishonour in this. Battle fatigue comes upon us all eventually, even those of us used to combat."

Rion grasped the hand and allowed himself to be stood upright. He flexed his numb hand trying to will the feeling back in it. All the time he was aware of Eonwe's piercing gaze assessing his battle-worthiness. Eventually the gaze softened. "Can you fight left-handed?"

Rion nodded. "After a fashion. Not so well as my right hand." He whispered.

Eonwe's gaze swept around the field. "The battle is nearly done and we have the field. There are just a few more to take care of so that we can reach our lines and get you some healing." He smiled at Rion and the deep dimples peeped out. "Come then. Stay behind me and help where you can."

The Herald launched himself forward and piled into an oncoming group of screaming orcs. He was an imposing sight as he strode ahead and those orcs who did not scuttle away at the sight of that terrible and shining figure were scythed like so many sheaves of corn under his sword. Rion had little to do other than to stagger along in his wake and jump aside as the enemy fell to the left and right. He stumbled over a rock concealed in the grass and was steadied by Tulcas who had sped to Eonwe's side and was now trotting alongside Rion behind the Herald as he disposed of obstacles in their way.

"Isn't he splendid?" Whispered Tulcas conversationally in Rion's ear. "My best project, the consummate warrior." Rion looked over at the Vala but couldn't conjure up sufficient breath to speak, instead his head just bobbed up and down in a nod. Tulcas winked conspiratorially at him. "We'll just stay behind him. After all he does this so well don't you think?"

"I heard that." Eonwe spoke without even turning his head or missing his stride and lunged at an orc who was brave enough to face him head on. The long sword slid through flesh like a hot knife through butter and was withdrawn smoothly in time to sever the head of the next orc foolish enough to take on the Maia. "What was it that you were saying earlier about leading from behind?"

"Ah yes." Tulcas chuckled. "But as you are so eager to remind me, it is not _I_ who lead the Host, therefore you are in the correct place at the head of battle and I am dutifully following behind as any good warrior should."

Eonwe did turn around at this and glared. "And using me as a shield while you are doing it."

Tulcas roared with laughter. "I am merely assisting this wonderful young elf. He keeps tripping over all these bodies you are so carelessly throwing in his path." He winked at Rion again. "Isn't that so young one?"

"Yes my Lord." Rion finally managed to gasp out. The sound of the two most powerful warriors in the Host bickering with each other had almost completely undone him. They sounded just like everyone else!

"There, there." The Vala patted him on the arm. "Don't try to talk, the tents with the healers are just a short distance away now."

**A few hours later in the healer's tent**

"How is he?" Eonwe spoke softly so as not to wake the more desperately injured.

The healer bowed respectfully. "You can see for yourself my Lord." He indicated a cot at the end. "His shoulder is sprained and bruised badly, but there are no bones broken. The numbness is merely from the force of the blow. His exhaustion is common among the warriors. They are simply worn out with the constant fighting and marching. The evil that suffuses this land saps the strength and will of the strongest even. Rion is young, he will recover. Until the next time."

Eonwe detected a hint of reprimand in the healer's voice and smiled wryly. The task of commanding the Host was a thankless one in many ways. All looked to him for guidance and when things went wrong he was the first to receive the reproachful and accusing glances. He placed a comforting hand on the healer's shoulder. "If he is asleep I will not wake him..." He began, but a voice interrupted him from the cot in the corner.

"I am not asleep my Lord." Rion struggled to sit up on the cot and Eonwe swiftly went to his side. He gently pushed him down and tucked the blanket around his chin.

"Did I give you permission to move?" He asked in mock severity.

Rion blushed. "No my Lord. I am sorry my Lord. Are you well?"

Eonwe looked a little taken aback. He couldn't remember anyone other than Tulcas actually asking him if he was well. The Eldar mostly assumed that since he was Maiar he was tireless and invincible. "Er…yes, a little tired perhaps. The fighting went on longer today than I anticipated. The enemy resistance grows stronger the further north we travel and the closer we get to Thangorodrim." He sat down on the edge of the cot. "I have a task for you when you are rested."

Rion looked confused. "A task? What kind of task?" Was this because his attention to the fighting had failed in today's battle? Perhaps it was the Herald's way of reprimanding him.

The anxiety showed on his face and Eonwe hastened to reassure him. "It has nothing to do with today's events. I can see on your face that you feel you let us down and that is a great nonsense. You are tired. Even Tulcas and I are. We need to rest from these constant skirmishes and refresh ourselves for a while. To that end we will march a little further on and camp near the western edge of the forest of Brethil not far from Amon Rûdh. The scouts tell me that although there are parties of the enemy in the woods, they are not large. A skirmishing group should be able to deal with them while the main host rests. There has been little game for us to hunt and it seems that as we push forward the animals and birds leave in our wake, yet the scouts also tell me that there is game in the forest still. We can replenish our supplies there."

Rion frowned. "And my task my Lord?"

"I wish you to take a companion and travel back towards the area of Nargothrond. I have reports that Ereinion Gil-galad travels with an army of his own." He hesitated slightly as if reluctant to say more, then he sighed. "It is not Gil-galad's destiny to fight alongside the Host. Soon he will be embroiled in something a great deal more pressing than joining us. I have need of him to perform a task for me.I need you to carry my requestand I also need you to remain with his force for the moment and be my eyes and ears."

The young Vanyarin looked utterly taken aback. "You want me to spy on Lord Gil-galad for you?"

Eonwe's rich laugh rang out and then stopped abruptly as he caught the disapproving eye of the healer. "I should go before he makes me roll bandages as a punishment for disturbing the sick."

Rion gave a snort of laughter and then winced as it jarred his injured shoulder. "He would not dare, surely. You are the Herald of Manwe and Commander of the Host."

"And where the sick are concerned, the healer's decision outweighs mine." Eonwe smiled at him. "Besides which, healers are always bullies, they know the patient will nearly always obey them if they threaten him with worse medicine and they use their knowledge and other's lack of knowledge to beat people like me over the head into submission." He rose to his feet. "Take your rest now. When your shoulder is healed attend me in my tent and I will give you the details of your mission. While you are lying here give some thought to the companion you wish to take with you."

"I will my Lord." Rion could feel sleep pulling at him and it was becoming hard to ignore.

Eonwe looked down at Rion thoughtfully as his eyelids drooped over his eyes, then he smiled and left the healer's tent. His pace quickened as the healer glared at him.

* * *


	15. Rescues, Secrets and Revelations

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2

**Notes:** Dagnabit, I missed the 'h' off Frederich in the previous chapter!

**Ellfine:** Thanks again, I have emailed you a private reply and will answer your email tomorrow morning. It is late here in the UK now.

**Chapter 15 – Rescues, Secrets and Revelations**

"The object of war is not to die for your country,  
but to make the other bastard die for his."  
**- General George Patton (1885-1945)**

**The Halls of the Valar, Oiolosse, Taniquetl  
**  
Lord Manwe Sulimo stood beside one of the archways in the marble audience chamber and gazed far out towards the east and the Hither Lands. He could see much of the happenings in that place and his attention was concentrated on his Herald as he led the armies of the Valar in the battles leading up to the final war against Morgoth.

Even from this long distance Manwe could sense the uncertainty and concern in Eonwe over the matter of the mortals from another time and grieved over it. To command the host was a difficult enough task; to do it when personal concerns got in the way increased the difficulties threefold.

Eru had made it plain that there were aspects of the mortals' existence in Middle-earth that could not be revealed to the Herald. Intellectually he understood that events in the other world could be directly and adversely affected by decisions made in the here and now of the First Age. Yet what was he to tell Eonwe when he sought counsel? Eru had impressed upon Manwe that it was imperative that Eonwe made absolutely no decisions regarding the mortal who wore his face. He and Gary Matthews were to be kept apart at all costs; at least for the moment.

It was also imperative that the modern weapons were retrieved and the mortals were the best people to do this. Eru did not want something so deadly from another time interfering and bringing down utter disaster on them all. Their mere presence in the First Age contaminated the natural progression of Middle-earth. Morgoth knew this and all of his efforts would be bent on getting his minion, the orc Thadak, to Thangorodrim with those weapons. He had now apparently penetrated the veil using means unknown and the path to the north was now clear for Thadak. The only advantage Manwe had was the fact that the path was now also clear for the mortals and they knew how to use the weapons to good effect.

A desperate race had begun with the main War of Wrath as the backdrop, yet as much depended on this race as on the war itself. Eru had now decreed that the mortals must now remain until they obtained the weapons, but to do this it was clear that they needed assistance.

It was then that Manwe spoke to Eru of Eonwe's decision to ask the High King of the Noldor in exile, Ereinion Gil-galad, son of Fingon, to investigate the situation and this action was approved. However Manwe was to keep the other information regarding the mortal Gary Matthews to himself. Not even the rest of the Valar were to be privy to this. The only exceptions to this ruling were Tulcas and of course Varda.

So what was there left to tell Eonwe to set his mind at rest? 'Don't worry my Herald, I am sorry I cannot tell you any more, but all is in hand and all will be well' didn't seem to quite have the reassuring sound it ought to have. Manwe ground his teeth in frustration.

"You are deeply troubled my beloved."

Manwe never tired of seeing his wife clothe herself in fleshly form. She seemed to manufacture it from gathered starlight as she walked down the marble hall towards him and her beauty defied description in mere words. She was utterly incomparable.

She bent over and touched her cool lips to his. He in turn restrained himself from gathering her into his arms. Instead he returned the kiss and captured her hands instead.

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you are mine." He whispered.

She laughed. "Do not try to distract me with charming phrases of devotion Manwe. What news from Eru Iluvator?"

He had never been able to pull the wool over her eyes. Manwe sighed deeply and told her of his counsel with the One.

When he had finished speaking, Varda stood at the archway gazing out over the mountains and across to the east just as her husband had earlier. "Poor Eonwe." She said finally. "We are to tell him nothing then? He will not be happy or satisfied with that. What do we know of the man who bears his face, or indeed any of his companions?"

"Very little, other than the fact that three of them are warriors from that world. The other one I know not."

Varda arched an elegant eyebrow. "Even the woman?"

"Even the woman." Manwe admitted. "Do you find that strange? Women are taught the art of fighting among the Eldar and many of them take up arms in the Hither Lands to defend themselves and their children most efficiently."

"Yes, and they do so with great expertise, but they are not usually counted among the warriors who go to war. It is oftimes more a case of necessity than choice."

Manwe laughed softly. "Most male warriors only go to war from necessity. If there were choices among the Eldar they would rather not fight at all. Yet mortal man is very different. Ever they fight for territory and for property. They even consider their females and children to be property to a certain degree and think nothing of depriving another of life. It just seems to me that in this other world things have not changed all that much."

Varda looked at him speculatively. "Do you think we are being given a chance to look into a future world my love? Perhaps the world that Middle-earth will become once the time of mortal men is at hand?"

Manwe shuddered. "I hope not, but if so, then it is my fervent hope that some of the good in the race of men survives to that time. However if these weapons Morgoth seeks are what Eru says they are, that hope is small indeed, and I shudder for Middle-earth and our armies if they fall into his hands."

"Then we must make sure they do not." Varda said lightly. She traced a finger lightly along Manwe's brow. "Try not to frown so my love, it causes furrows."

Manwe chuckled. "I _could_ just re-clothe myself in flesh without the furrows." He sighed. "We cannot interfere any more than we are doing, beloved. All we can do is offer support. It is frustrating to sit and wait while events unfold and not be able to help."

She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows invitingly. "We could just go somewhere and be more private and perhaps think of ways to help without seeming to do so."

He glanced around the empty hall. "Somewhere more private than this?" He exclaimed. "There is no one here. What were you thinking of doing in this private area?" His voice was teasing.

Her silvery laughter echoed around the hall. She caught at his hand and dragged him along with her. "If I have to spell it out for you then we have been married far too long."

He allowed himself to be led away, but his mind was still on his Herald.

The Valar did not have children and _all _of the Maiar were much beloved by them, however there _were_ favourites without a doubt. Manwe and Varda loved Eonwe and his sister Ilmare as though they were indeed their children.

Eonwe and Ilmare were not brother and sister in the strict blood relative sense of the term. They had both sprung from the music at the same time and bonded as siblings with each other almost immediately. Neither had chosen a mate and both had pledged themselves in service to Manwe and his wife, although Eonwe had at one time pursued the maiden Arien with a view to bonding with her. Events had dictated otherwise, however, and their paths grew steadily apart over time. Arien's duty was to pilot the sun and Eonwe had his duties as the Herald.

It occurred to Manwe that he had never spoken of this matter with Eonwe and likewise Eonwe had never brought it up. He saw her during the times when Tilion took the moon on its path through the heavens and Arien was permitted to rest awhile, but Manwe had no idea whether a bond had been pledged between them. Somehow he thought not, since Tilion now openly pursued her and she was apparently not averse to his attentions. It was a shame, for Manwe loved Eonwe and wished him to be happy. Did his Herald watch Arien and feel the pain of rejection?

Manwe suddenly felt deeply ashamed that he had never asked Eonwe what had happened. Perhaps he could have offered some comfort. Instead he hadjust unthinkingly glossed over Eonwe's seemingly stoical acceptance of that rejection.

Tulcas Astaldo also had a great affection for Eonwe. Both were strong forthright characters and Tulcas had taken the Maia under his wing when it came to strength of arms. The Herald had undoubtedly benefited from that attention, he had become the greatest in might and arms amongst all the Maiar and Tulcas was immensely proud of his protégé.

Manwe could only hope that by taking him into his confidence over the mortals, Tulcas would be able to advise and reassure Eonwe at least to the extent where the matter faded into the back of his mind.

That was the cunning plan, for now at least.

* * *

**On the banks of the Sirion, Nan Tathren willow wood, Beleriand  
**  
"What are they doing now?"

Jim cautiously peered through the reeds and long grass. "I'm not sure. Just sitting there under cover arguing by the sounds of it."

"Well we can't just all sit around here forever." Kim's voice rose in frustration and Gary immediately looked over at her.

"Keep it down Sergeant. They have pretty sharp hearing and it wouldn't take them long to pinpoint us by the sound of our voices." He whispered. Kim flushed and looked down and he immediately regretted the admonition when he saw the mutinous expression and embarrassment on her face. He looked over at the Chief. "How are you at sniping Chief?"

The Chief looked affronted but his tone of voice was wry. "Now what makes you think that I have _any_ expertise in that area sir?"

Gary rolled onto his side and grinned at the other man. His dark blue eyes were twinkling and deep dimples peeped out on either side of his mouth. "Oh come on Chief, it doesn't take that much intelligence to work out that you've re-badged at some stage. What were you? Royal Marines or SAS?"

Chief chuckled. "Ah now sir, if I tell you that I'd have to kill you." He grimaced and groped behind him. His furtive searching came up with a rock the size of a fist. "I've been lying on that for bloody hours. This roughie-toughie stuff is no good for old geezers like me you know. I've had my day. Marines as it happens."

"Huh?" Gary had been focussing on their adversaries across the river and lost track of the conversation.

"Marines. Royal Marine Commando." Chief answered patiently as if he were talking to a small child. "My old outfit."

"Really?" Gary slid the assault rifle over towards him through the thick tussocks of grass. "Then you're probably a sharpshooter. Reckon you could pick any of them off if you had a higher vantage point? Like perhaps from the branches of that real old tree where we were standing guard?"

Chief sighed and checked the weapon, then he nodded. He leopard-crawled through the grass until he reached the tree line, then he stood up and slipped into the cool green places under the veils of willow leaves. The tree Gary had mentioned was almost obscenely ancient. Although it still produced a profuse amount of foliage the wood of the branches and trunk was hard, grey and gnarled. Chief gently laid his hand on the bark and slid it along in a caress.

"Now listen old lady." He said quietly. "I need to climb up and use your branches as a platform, but I'll be careful not to hurt you too much." He glanced around quickly to make sure that no one was there to witness his foolishness at talking to the tree. _What a silly old sod I am._ He thought to himself. _I could get put away for doing daft things like that. My missus would think I'd lost the plot._

_But you are not at home and your missus is not here._ The whispered words were tinged with a dry amusement. The voice sounded for all the world like brittle parchment crumbling away. _Climb the tree young one; it will bear your weight with pleasure._

The Chief drew back in slight shock. It was as though someone or something had spoken to him, but where the words had come from was a mystery. He immediately took the safety off and cocked the weapon as smoothly and quietly as he could. The distinctive snicking sound of a weapon being cocked sliced through the silence that had settled on the woods.

Gary and the others heard it from the bank and turned to look in that direction.

"Chief? Are you okay?" Gary whispered as loud as he dared. But there was no answer.

The Chief glanced up at the tree. After a quick look around, he decided that he didn't have the time to worry about who might be talking to him or whether he was finally losing his marbles. He needed to do the business so they could move before they all starved to death.

About five feet up the branches spread out and criss-crossed each other. They looked to be strong enough to support the weight of a fully-grown man as long as he positioned himself near the trunk. Any further on and the branches started to thin and dip elegantly downwardsin the usual willow fashion. He released the cocking mechanism and discharged the weapon into the soft earth at the base of the tree, then he put the safety catch on and took the magazine off and slid it into his pocket.

The round that had fallen out of the breach was lying by his feet. He picked it up and put it into his pocket then he took his stable belt off, fashioned it in a rough sling for the weapon which he slung on his back and proceeded to climb the tree.

* * *

Thadak sat quite far back from the others, but not so far away that they felt comfortable about making a break for it without him catching them. A few yards away, having regained consciousness during the impasse, sat Melannen, the golden elf that the Lord Morgoth had commanded be brought to him. His once golden hair was now almost completely dulled with sweat and blood, his shoulders drooped with exhaustion. He was all but spent.

Personally Thadak thought that dragging the elf around with them was a pointless exercise. After all, what was so special about this particular elf? As far as Thadak could see there were plenty more just like him. They should slit his throat and ditch him. He would only slow them down, especially now with his injuries.

The strange spitting fire-sticks were a different matter altogether. Thadak had been impressed with the way that the human had killed his two orcs efficiently and swiftly. Although his small brain could not encompass the method used, he did definitely understand the importance of such powerful weaponry in the upcoming battle with the gods of the West.

In that moment Thadak made a decision. He decided that he would leave the others and the captive elf and take the weapons to Thangorodrim alone. It would be faster not having to worry about others making noise, demanding to eat and generally making such a nuisance of themselves they were bound to be killed. If the evil One was so set on a golden-haired elf, then Thadak was sure he could find one for him further on up the road.

He would leave the elf for the others. Once his influence and restraining hand was taken away, the rest would fall on him, take their pleasure and then devour the sweet elf-flesh they had lusted for from the beginning. It would give him time to make his escape.

Thadak began to make his surreptitious move away from the others, but as he turned his gaze away from the river bank his eyes met those of the elf. For a moment the expression of pity and forgiveness in those beautiful blue eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. He gave a snarl and disappeared through the greenery and the trees.

For his part, Melannen knew that the game was up and his life now hung by a thread. He could see Thadak's intention clearly in his face. He was going on alone with the strange weapons. There would be but a short time before the others realised that Thadak had deserted them and then they would turn on him to wreak revenge. All Melannen could do was hope that the end would be swift, but somehow he doubted it.

The only slender hope of escape he had now lay with the strange mortals who wielded the metal object that dealt death loudlyin seconds.

* * *

Even as Thadak began his silent withdrawal from his colleagues, Chief Knowles was settling himself on a couple of crossed branches that were much more slender than felt comfortable or safe.

He sat with his back to the bole of the tree and the assault rifle propped up on one bent knee. This was the best support he could come up with. He checked the magazine and then fitted it to the weapon. It slotted home with a gentle click. He then took the safety catch off, set it to single shot and settled the weapon so that the stock fitted comfortably into his shoulder and the barrel rested lightly on his right knee. This was no sniper's rifle with a nice tripod stand and there was no convenient window sill or wall to rest it on. When the rifle jumped back after the shot, it would bruise him, but it wasn't like he hadn't had that happen before. It was no big deal.

He cocked the weapon and squinted through the sight. Given the higher vantage point, he discovered that he had a birds-eye view of the other bank and could plainly see where the remaining four orcs were holed up. Chief knew that he had only a short time to squeeze off four shots. The first one would alert them and he had to be fast with the next three.

As he moved the weapon slightly to sight the target he could see the blond man and was relieved to see that he was now conscious and resting with his back against a moss covered rock. A few feet further over were the remaining creatures. He slowly adjusted the aim so that he caught one of them in the cross hairs of the sight. Chief sighed. The back of the disgusting thing's head was a better target than nothing, but he would have preferred to get him straight through the forehead. That way, the bullet would hit the brain and that would be all she wrote.

The creature turned slightly and the Chief's breath hissed inwardly. His finger tightened on the trigger. "Come to papa." He crooned softly as the creature turned his head the rest of the way and looked into the sight full on.

Chief squeezed the trigger and the shot rang out. The creature slumped to the ground without a sound. The other creatures and the elf all looked in the direction of the heap in the grass and for a split second everything froze.

Everything except the Chief who calmly targeted the next creature and another shot rang out. He also fell to the ground in a boneless heap. The two remaining creatures looked at each other, then over to where Thadak had been only moments before and the penny dropped. Thadak had deserted them and left them to die at the hands of the humans.

They completely ignored Melannen, who had curled himself in the smallest ball he could against the rock; instead they turned tail and fled. The one in the lead managed to reach the first dense group of trees before Chief shot him in the back. He threw his arms out dramatically and then tumbled over.

The last surviving creature gave an unearthly shriek of terror which was cut off abruptly to a squawk as the next shot hit him in the upper back, but it didn't stop him. His gait was erratic, but he plunged on between the trees, making his desperate bid for safety. The Chief cursed and re-targeted him. This time he aimed for the largest part of the body and the creature fell to the ground.

As the orcs fell one by one the blond man staggered to his feet and went to the river bank passing the dead orcs and not even sparing them so much as a brief glance. Even as he did so Gary, Kim and Jim jumped up. They all stood staring at each other across the river and Melannen got his first close look at Gary's features.

An almost comical look of surprise passed over his face. He had seen those features many, many times on Aman. The question was, what was the Herald of Manwe doing with these mortals and why was he dressed like them?

* * *

Thadak heard the shots ring out. He knew that the rest of his troop were now lying dead and he also knew that unless he increased his speed and managed to get out of these accursed woods, the humans would pursue him. It was not that he was afraid that they would kill him, but getting the fire-sticks to Morgoth far outweighed any desire he might have had to stop and deal with the humans.

With the assault rifles strapped to his back, he pounded along at a steady speed and as he ran, the veil surrounding Nan Tathren began to tear and slip apart.

* * *


	16. When its dark enough

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers**

**Ellfine **– Thanks once again, sorry for the brief delay in getting the new chapter up, but I was away for the weekend.

**Pink Panther** – Thank you so much, I'm delighted that you're enjoying it. Regarding the Women in the Military matter. I served in the British Army for eleven years, discharged at end of service after Gulf War service in 1991 as a Staff Sergeant (one rank above Kim in the story). Kim is not me, however, just in case you were wondering! LOL. Or me as I was during service, I was a much hardier soul by the time I reached Sergeant and would never have made the mistake of falling in love with an officer. Unlike Kim I _was_ an army marksman and proficient in military training. I do feel strongly that women in service are often misrepresented and under-represented. We're either classed as hard bitten bitches more like men than women or just there for the comfort of the male soldiers. The Ministry of Defence doesn't help when it states its doctrine that there are 'NO women in the Forward Edge of Battle Area (FEBA)'. In reality there are many British servicewomen on or very near the front line, all are armed and all are trained in the use of arms. The commander on the ground really doesn't care if a soldier is male or female; you're just another trained body to him.

I thought it would be interesting to combine the ancient ideal of male warriors with the modern female soldier in a scenario where two timelines collide with a little help from the Valar and Morgoth Baugir.

**Chapter 16 – When it's dark enough you can see the stars**

"You have to stay in shape. My grandmother,  
started walking five miles a day when she was 60.  
She's 97 today and we don't know where the hell she is."  
**- Ellen Degeneres**

"I don't want to be in the army,  
I don't want to go to war.  
I'd rather stay at home, around the streets to roam.  
Living off the earnings of high-class lady.  
I don't want a bayonet in my belly;  
I don't want my bollocks shot away.  
I'd rather stay in England, in merry, merry England,  
and fornicate me bleeding life away."  
**- WW1 Trench Song**

Sgt Kim Freeman wasn't sure whether to kick herself or launch a swift hard kick to Major Matthew's nice tight arse. She was having a hard job interpreting the mixed vibes that were coming off him.

They would have a nice conversation and he would have this hungry look in the back of his eyes, then he'd come over all officer-like and yell at her for speaking too loud. Even when they all discussed things, anything she said was glossed over and then they just did whatever _he_ wanted to do anyway and expected her to meekly follow on.

Who the hell did he think he was? It wasn't like they were even in England and they'd probably never _get _back home at the rate they were going.

She felt angry, ashamed and rebellious all at the same time. Her feet hurt; her stomach constantly growled with hunger and her hair was a mess. She'd been shocked when she caught sight of her reflection in the river.

Perhaps that wasn't hunger she saw in his eyes then. Perhaps it was disgust, or worse, amusement. She could just imagine the type of woman he would be interested in back home. This imaginary girlfriend would have a mane of thick shining blonde hair that she would sweep across her tanned shoulders, she'd have perfectly shaped, perky breasts, a stomach like a washboard, thin waist and hips and legs right up to her neck. And a sports car or something. She'd be everything that Kim felt she wasn't.

Kim had a sudden vision of Gary locked in a passionate embrace with this imaginary woman and it felt as though someone had thrust a dagger straight through her heart. The resentment, jealousy, perceived hurt, hunger and the fear rose right up inside her like a tidal wave and refused to be quelled.

_She_ would show them.

She would show _him_.

The blond man with the pointed ears was standing stock still on the other side of the river his gaze riveted on Gary. There was a look of consternation on his beautiful face.

"He seems _very_ interested in you." Jim said quietly to Gary who nodded distractedly.

For some reason when he looked at the blond man, he felt a tug of some deep memory, but as soon as he tried to pin it down it slipped away like a will 'o the wisp.

"He looks familiar, but I don't know where from." He frowned. "One thing's for sure we can't keep standing here having a staring contest with each other. We need to talk to him. He might know where we are and how we can get back home."

"Without the weapons?" Jim enquired.

Gary dragged his gaze away from the Elf. "No. I suppose not. We don't know what damage that thing could do with them or where he's taking them. However, this guy..." He jerked a thumb at Melannen who had cocked his head on one side in a very bird-like fashion and was obviously listening. "Might be able to help us there. What do you think? We should at least try to communicate with him."

"I don't think he's human." The Chief spoke from behind them. After killing the remaining orcs he had climbed back down and now joined them at the riverbank. "Those ears don't look human to me and he has to be nigh on seven foot tall if he's an inch."

"Perhaps it's some kind of genetic mutation." Suggested Jim. "I mean the professor types are always coming up with new species. Maybe we've found some sort of throwback."

Chief gave a chuckle. "Given that beauty, I think maybe _we're_ the ones who are the throwbacks, but I'll tell you what I think he reminds me of."

Gary lifted an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"One of those Elves from Lord of the Rings, only a lot more…well…Elvish. After all those guys were just good-looking actors playing a part. I think this guy might be the real deal and if he is, then we have a massive language barrier difficulty to add to the problems we've already got."

Gary remembered Kim's comment about elves as she drifted back to sleep at the hospital and he glanced around intending to ask her whether she remembered and what she'd meant by it, but she wasn't standing on the other side of Jim as she had been before. Panic and worry for her welfare momentarily clutched at his stomach and there was an edge to his voice when he spoke. "Where's Kim?"

Chief pointed and Gary looked. His face grew red with the kind of annoyance a parent has when a child has worried the life out of them but been found safely. "What the fuck does she think she's doing?" He strode to the edge of the bank. "Sergeant Freeman, get back here _this_ minute."

Kim had listened impatiently to the discussion and, fed up with the procrastination from the men, had decided to take action by herself. She had crossed the river using the slippery rocks and boulders on the river bed as stepping stones and was now standing only about a foot away from the blond man, who literally towered over her, yet not in a threatening way. Instead he had an almost tender smile on his face as he reached out and gently drew one long, slender finger down the side of her cheek. Then he placed his right hand over his heart, bowed deeply and spoke in a fluid, musical language that she had never heard before.

"Aiya! Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo hérincë." (1) Was what he actually said to her, but all she heard was the most delightful but completely unintelligible collection of musical notes.

She blushed. "I'm sorry. I don't understand your language." She said softly.

Impulsively she reached up and lightly touched his cheek with her finger, gently drawing a line through the grime, then she felt in her pocket for a tissue. His sharp and incredibly bright eyes followed her hand as it groped in the strange clothing she wore and he tensed slightly, resting lightly on the balls of his feet and prepared for action in case she withdrew something lethal. He had seen their weapons and they had not only survived attacks from Thadak and his orcs, but had prevailed in the end. They had proved themselves to be capable adversaries and Melannen was justifiably cautious.

While this interchange was happening Gary had drawn himself to his full height, which was fairly considerable and not far short of the Elf's. He started forward with an angry expression on his face. He was furious with Kim for doing something without permission and also because she could have put herself in potential danger. They didn't know who the hell this man was or what he was capable of. Despite his injuries, he looked lithe and dangerous; he could capture Kim and hold her hostage or anything. The random panicked concerns tumbled unchecked through his mind and his heart constricted at the thought of somebody hurting her.

In any case, he didn't like the way the Elf, or whatever the fuck he was, had touched Kim with that tender smile on his face and he found that he didn't like her responding in kind either, not one little bit.

_You're jealous mister_. An annoying part of his brain teased him.

_I am not. _He protested back to himself. _She is under my command. Any good officer looks after his men...even if they happen to be women._

It took him a couple of seconds to realise that he was having this ridiculous argument with himself. He shook himself and took a couple more determined steps towards the fairly fast flowing river only to be prevented from going further across by Chief grabbing his arm. He gave Chief an angry glance and tried to shake his arm free, but Chief nodded at Kim and the Elf.

She had produced a tissue from her pocket and dipped it in the river then she reached up and gently wiped some of the grime away from Melannen's cheek. The Elf's light silvery laughter bubbled through the air towards the men as she did so and he bent down accommodatingly so that she didn't have to stretch so high. Kim giggled and her laughter melded with his.

Gary's stomach tightened with jealousy and he had to force it down. Why didn't she laugh like that with him?

_Because you're far too busy being the perfect officer and good commander?_ Came the reply from his irrepressible inner voice of doom.

"Looks like Kim's having no trouble in communicating." The Chief remarked dryly. He watched Gary out of the corner of his eye and could see the muscle jumping in the Major's tightly clenched jaw. He could also see the mixed anger and jealousy in his expression. _Serves you bloody right if the blond bloke steals a march on you._ He thought smugly. _That'll teach you to play fast and loose with the emotions of one of my staff._

"Why can't she just do as she's told for once?" Gary muttered furiously.

He stepped onto the first slippery rock, but before he could go any further the Elf held out his hand to Kim and then walked over the rocks as though he was walking on a carpet of thistledown dragging her behind him. Her progress across the rocks was a lot clumsier in comparison.

Gary sighed and stepped backwards onto the bank again. He watched jealously while the Elf handed Kim onto the riverbank with yet another graceful bow. She giggled and blushed, the Elf laughed that silvery laugh of his and Gary seethed inwardly while the Chief and Jim watched and wondered what exactly was happening here.

Melannen approached Gary and bowed. "Aiya, heru Tercáno." (2)

Chief didn't miss the respectful, almost awestruck tone in the Elf's voice. He noticed that the former orc captive was rapidly regaining his strength and marvelled at the fact. Those beatings had to have been fierce, but the bruises were practically fading by the second. Again he thought that this incredible creature was definitely nowhere near the average human, more like some kind of superhuman with fantastic abilities to heal himself without medical intervention.

Gary had a perplexed look on his face. "What did he say?"

"I think it's Elvish." Jim's voice was filled with suppressed excitement.

"How do you know that?" Chief asked.

Jim blushed. "My younger sister has been some kind of Tolkien geek ever since she saw the movies. She read the Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit and then the Silmarillion. She also belongs to some of these crazy fan groups on the Internet. Her teacher asked them to write an essay on languages and she chose one of the Elvish ones, Sindarin I think it was. Anyway she used to gabble away all of this nonsense and I suppose some of it stuck. She even writes some of that weird fanfiction stuff. I could try a simple greeting if you like."

Gary hesitated then nodded. "Try it. It's better than nothing." The truth was that the Elf's intense regard was making him feel uncomfortable. He had the strongest feeling that he shouldn't even be talking to this otherworldly creature. There was something he should be remembering. He frowned and probed his deepest thoughts but came up with nothing.

Gary's lack of response to his greeting was beginning to worry Melannen. It was becoming plain that the Herald didn't seem to understand him and the altogether disturbing thought that this might not be Eonwe drifted through his understanding. It was true that Herald did not seem as tall as he usually did somehow, although he was a perfect match in all other respects. The fact that he was also fluent in their strange sounding language didn't help. Melannen was now wondering if he was perhaps mistaken.

He stared at Gary intently while the humans talked among themselves, but couldn't find anything that differed from what he knew of Eonwe apart from the strange dress and the short hair. After a short discussion the youngest of the three men finally turned to him, placed his hand over his heart and spoke.

"Mae Govannen?" His tone was hesitant, but courteous.

The Elf's exhausted face lit up with relief. "Suilad! Le hannon." He made a wide gesture to the bank behind him where the dead orcs lay. "Le hannon." He repeated when the human who had spoken the greeting in strangely accented Sindarin looked puzzled.

Jim looked at Gary and Chief in confusion. "I'm not sure what that means. He might be returning the greeting."

"He's thanking us." Gary said abruptly. "Le hannon is 'thank you'."

Now everyone looked at him.

"And how would you be knowing that sir?" The Chief asked softly.

It was Gary's turn to look confused. "I…uh…I'm not sure, I just know. I don't know how I know."

Melannen saw the confusion and became even more sure that this was either not the Maia he knew from Aman, or something was very wrong. He impulsively reached out and took Gary by his arm. A split second later one very surprised and shocked Elf discovered that he was flat on his back with his arms held in a vice-like grip above his head and Gary's knee on his throat.

The speed of Gary's reaction wasn't lost on his speechless companions by any means. Jim's mouth dropped open and the Chief quite frankly looked stunned. It was Kim who jumped forward in distress.

"_Sir_, for god's sake. He wasn't going to hurt you, he was just trying to get your attention." She grasped at Gary's shoulder and he turned to look at her, still not removing his death-grip on Melannen.

Kim recoiled slightly when she saw his dark blue eyes were glittering with anger, but she bravely stood her ground. "Let him go sir, he's not the enemy. I think he thinks he knows you and we _need_ him. You said before that we needed him."

Her voice was calm, but her insides had turned to jelly. There was an unearthly deep golden glow about Gary's smooth skin that she had never noticed before and his eyes, angry though they were, were fathomless and ancient. It was as if an entirely different persona had imprinted itself over Gary. A very scary persona. She withdrew her hand quickly but did not step away.

Melannen saw this too and realised that this was indeed the Herald of Manwe, but for some reason his memories had been tampered with or lost in some way.

Gary slowly released his hold on Melannen and stood up. Chief held out a hand to the Elf who took it with a look of gratitude and allowed the mortal to help him up. He nodded his thanks to the Chief who nodded back and smiled.

This _was_ Eonwe, Melannen was absolutely sure of it, yet it was a very different Eonwe from the Maia he had met and conversed with many times in his father's house on the slopes of Taniquetl. The question was, how was he to deal with a Maia who had apparently lost his memory?

* * *

From the vantage point in the audience chamber where he did all of his far seeing, Manwe saw the interchange and he grimaced. Varda gripped his hand so tightly he could feel the nails digging into his flesh. "What shall we do?" She whispered. "The child Melannen more than suspects who he is. Will he not speak of it to Eonwe?" 

"I think we must needs trust to Melannen's discretion. He is Ingwe's son and has been around the Valar and the Maiar long enough to know that something is amiss. We must hope that he keeps his thoughts to himself for the moment." Manwe's voice was low and filled with concern. "My feelings are that it is not so much whether Melannen recognises Eonwe in this mortal, but more a case of whether the mortal recognises him and so far he has shown no signs of it."

Varda sighed and traced her finger along the veins in the marble of the archway. "Did you see the way he reacts to the female? He is falling in love with her. Do you think that this is in Eru's great plan?"

Manwe laughed and drew her into his arms. He kissed her tenderly and then let her go. "I am quite sure that it is what Eru intended for he made no mention of the growing feelings. Eonwe has some task to perform in their age and has been sent in fleshly form. If the woman wasn't part of it I feel sure that Eru would have done something about it by now."

"I hope it _is_ intended." Varda said firmly. "Eonwe is on his own far too much and he deserves to be happy, especially after…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"After Arien? Yes you are right." Manwe mused. "That has been much on my mind of late. I have been thoughtless where that is concerned."

Varda raised an eyebrow at him. "Thoughtless? How so?"

Manwe sighed and stared out across the leagues that separated the Blessed Isle from the Hither Lands. He could see much himself, but with his wife beside him he saw much further, yet could still do nothing to ease the situation that had arisen through Morgoth's meddling. It distressed him to see Eonwe suffering, no matter what incarnation he was in.

It was a miracle that the two were being allowed to occupy the same timeline in the first place, although Eru had stressed that time would eventually run out for Gary Matthews.His presence would not be tolerated by the laws governing the dimensions beyond a certain point and he would simply cease to exist. This could have a devastating effect on that future world and indeed on the budding relationship between the young human female and the Herald. Some things that were meant to be would not be and the ramifications would be far-reaching.

If that happened then there may not be a world for the other three to return to. At least not any world that they had a place in or that they would recognise.

"Manwe? Is something amiss?"

Manwe smiled wryly at his wife. "What could possibly be amiss? We are watching a potential accident with hideous consequences looking for somewhere to happen and can do nothing to help."

"That I know." Varda said patiently. "I asked you how you were thoughtless in the matter of Eonwe and Arien."

"He sought no one out after his rejection." Manwe said sadly. "I should have brought the subject up, offered a shoulder to cry on, something…anything. But I merely dismissed it, assuming, like everyone else, that Eonwe was strong enough to withstand anything. Even the deepest hurt."

"He was never the most approachable of the Maiar my beloved." Varda put a gentle, comforting hand on his arm. "And we do not know that he sought no one out but somehow I doubt it. He might have mentioned it to Ilmare, but she would have told me and he would not have spoken of it to Olorin, they are friendly but not close. Most of the other Maiar are cautious in his company because he has your ear. No, I personally think his pride was wounded and it was easier for him to construct walls around whatever pain he may have felt and hide it from others. You could not have penetrated it, even with well-meant condolences."

Manwe looked at her and she saw a determined glint in his blue eyes. "Then all the more reason that we lend what help we can now. If the love between him and the mortal child is meant to be, then it _shall_ be. I Manwe Sulimo, Lord of the Breath of Arda, Elder King of Middle-earth will ensure that they have their chance." He strode away down the marble hall, shedding his flesh as he went.

At the same time, a tall fair-haired Maia entered from one of the other archways and bowed deeply to his Lord who was far too distracted to acknowledge it.

Olorin stood in the middle of the audience room and gaped at the empty space that had, only seconds previously, held the fleshly form of Lord Manwe. He looked over at Varda with an expression of bemusement.

She laughed lightly and came down to stand with him. "You have done nothing wrong Olorin. He has a lot on his mind."

"I am pleased to hear it my Lady." Olorin commented cautiously. "Lady Nienna said you had need of my presence?"

She gave him a conspiratorial, even naughty, little smile and her eyes twinkled with laughter. "Indeed I do Olorin, thank you for your haste. I have a small task for you to perform for me. It will require a little journey and no one but the two of us must be privy to it."

Olorin was intrigued. "I am all ears my Lady." His blue eyes twinkled in response.

* * *

**Olorin **– Another name for the Istari who later on would be sent to Middle-earth in human form as Gandalf. 

_Aiya, elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo hérincë_ (Quenya) – Hail! A star shines on the hour of our meeting little lady.

_Aiya heru tercáno_ (Quenya)_ – _Hail, Lord Herald.


	17. Praise the Valar and pass the ammunition

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers**:

**Ellfine:** I think the modern incarnation of Eonwe is more likely to get the girl, but it would cause some lovely complications if a ménage a trois occurred wouldn't it? Hmm, the Nuzgul is nibbling gently on my big toe! I hadn't originally intended to let the cat out of the bag about there being two Eonwe's this early, but then I realised that since this next chapter leads up to Rion and the Noruthalion (the Noldor elf who Rion keeps encountering) meeting Gary, I would have to gently let everyone in on the secret.

I know the Manwe shedding flesh 'thing' is weird! It's just that I have this crazy notion that the Valar and the Maiar would be able to literally step out of their corporeal bodies as easily as we shed our clothes.

**Pink Panther**: I don't know that I qualify as a hero, but thank you anyway! I enjoyed my time in the army. I had a lot of fun and met a lot of people, not to mention gained a lot of experience. Service in a theatre of war allowed me to look at life, and death, with a different perspective. I find that since leaving, I am so much more attuned to the earth and life and a lot less materialistic. The first quote at the beginning of the chapter is dedicated to you!

**To both**: Varda can't resist poking her slender fingers into the pie. She loves Eonwe like a son and like most mothers, wants to see her little boy happy with the right girl. However she also has a sneaking sympathy for the mortals trapped in the wrong time and realises that it's not their fault that they've ended up in Middle-earth in the middle of a war, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even Gary's presence wasn't part of the plan, it is just an 'unfortunate series of events'! Olorin's (Gandalf) part in the mystery is still being developed since that came about from his character tapping me on the shoulder at the end of the last chapter and demanding to know when he would get a mention. The bugger crept in behind my back and now I have to write him in!

**Chapter 17 – Praise the Valar and pass the ammunition**

"We have women in the military, but they don't put us in the front lines.  
They don't know if we can fight or if we can kill. I think we can.  
All the general has to do is walk over to the women and say,  
"You see the enemy over there? They say you look fat in those uniforms."  
– **Elaine Boosler  
**

"We, the willing, led by the unknowing,  
are doing the impossible for the ungrateful.  
We have now done so much for so long with so little,  
we are now capable of doing anything with nothing."  
**- Old Navy Quote**

**The camp of Ereinion Gil-galad, north of Nargothrond, where the River Ginglith meets the River Narog **

Night had finally fallen after an eventful day fraught with far rumblings from deep in the bowels of Middle-earth. Gil-galad's small, but determined, force had finally approached what would have been the borders of the realm of Nargothrond had it still existed and had not quite reached the field of Tumhalad where the fateful encounter between the armies of the elf-lord Orodreth of Nargothrond and Glaurung had taken place. The army had been subsequently routed and those elves that remained behind were greeted by the sight of the dragon and his orcs crossing the bridge into the citadel instead of a victorious Orodreth.

Although no one had spoken of it and they had given the ruins of the sacked citadel a wide berth, each and every elf could feel the presence of many sad souls. Gil-galad was reluctant to make camp in a place filled with such melancholy and sadness, yet his people were tired with the pace he had set. They needed to rest, but they also needed to press on and had they but known it, they were ultimately heading for the same place that Eonwe had chosen to rest the Host, and for the same reason, replenishment of food by hunting for what game there was left.

The underlying anxieties attached to the minor earth tremors had also caused many tempers to fray. Celeborn was feeling the separation from his lady and although he could communicate with her from far away, this did not alleviate the overwhelming desire just to tell her to get out of Sirion and move up the coast. He held his tongue, however, knowing that Galadriel would not react too well to any hysterical outbursts of his. She would remain until the last living thing was sent to safety, including the last dockyard cat. He knew her too well and grimly kept his feelings to himself despite an almost overwhelming feeling of impending disaster.

On one hand he regretted giving in to Ereinion's request for his presence on this fool's mission, on the other hand he would be damned if he'd allow those Light Elves from Aman to stomp all over the land of his birth without so much as a by your leave. Celeborn had not entirely been in agreement with Earendil's journey to seek help, not because he didn't think they needed it, but because he knew that when all was over, he could well be faced with a few hard choices. The notion that Galadriel may _want_ to leave for Aman was at the forefront of those choices.

Would he leave the place of his birth where he had his roots? _Could_ he leave? Even at the command of the Valar or the pleading of his wife? Celeborn had no yearning for the light of Aman, and, fortunately or unfortunately depending on one's point of view, Galadriel still had a strong desire to rule some sort of realm of her own. However if her father King Finarfin rode with the host and they eventually met up, as was inevitable, would that not all change? Perhaps after all this time she would want to be with her family again. It wasn't as if either of them had any strong ties here as far as kin was concerned.

It was just that the thought of ending up as some minor vassal of a Noldorin King did not exactly fill him with joy. He could just hear the comments from those high and mighty Calaquendi as he and Galadriel strolled the streets of Tirion.

"Who is that chap with Finarfin's girl again?"

"Ah now that would be that Moriquendi she married from Middle-earth. Strange folk, although what can you expect from those who never saw the Light of the Two Trees? He doesn't really have anything to offer a princess. Can't think why she married him in the first place. She could have done so much better."

Celeborn wasn't the type to desire or grasp power greedily, but all the same he could definitely imagine being compared with any of the highborn Elves of Aman and coming out on the negative side of the comparison.

And what of the Middle-earth? He didn't think he could leave it just yet; he was not weary of it and truthfully didn't think he ever would be.

He tried to cast off the despondent thoughts which only insisted on revolving around and around in his head and sighed, then he stood up from his position by the softly glowing embers of the campfire and drained the dregs of his wine cup. Gil-galad had ordered a halt for the night and Celeborn for one had been grateful of it, even though he could feel the strange haunted atmosphere of the surrounding environment very strongly. There was a distinct feeling of being overlooked and he wasn't the only one to feel it. The young warrior who had been assigned to the horses had been grooming one of them and Celeborn noticed that he constantly stopped to look around and behind him as though he was convinced that there was some unseen presence.

Celeborn idly wondered if Orodreth had actually answered the call of Mandos, or whether his houseless spirit still wandered the fields of Nargothrond and Tumhalad and was attracted to the small army of living elves. He could definitely see _that _happening in this dreary place. Of course Orodreth would not have known the ultimate fate of his daughter Finduilas, but he must have guessed at it if the city was sacked. Celeborn shuddered and thanked the heavens that he and Galadriel did not have children. There was a good reason why elves chose not to have young ones during time of war.

He stretched and every line of his slim lithe body was visible in the moonlight and glow from the fire. It was no use sitting here contemplating a fate that might never come. He could be killed in battle himself and that would solve everything. Perhaps Mandos would take one look at this Dark Elf and throw away the key forever.

A wry smile touched his firmly sculpted mouth. It was time to check the guard since he had volunteered to command the first watch. He laid a few more small branches on the fire to keep it stoked through the night and moved soundlessly through the trees.

Glorfindel watched him go and smiled. The thoughts of the Lord Celeborn were written plainly all over his face. He was patently and visibly worried about the aftermath of this war and wondering where his place might be in the scheme of things. He was not so far removed from Gil-galad in this. They had much in common if only they did but know it. Glorfindel cast a look over towards the small hastily erected tent where Gil-galad held his battle order groups. A single candle still flickered behind the light material of the tent and caused the two current occupants, Gil-galad himself and Cirdan to be reflected in grotesque shadow. They were obviously burning the midnight oil discussing the route of the march on the morrow.

Well one thing was for sure, he was not going to do himself any favours by not sleeping, so he rolled onto his back, folded his hands across his chest and let himself slide into the reverie of dreams and wakefulness that comprised Elven sleep.

He was awoken a short while later by the sounds of a low altercation.

Celeborn had immediately recognised both of the cloaked intruders as Elves from Aman, the unearthly light that glowed in their eyes and which mirrored the light behind his Galadriel's eyes gave them away almost immediately.

The taller was Vanyarin without a doubt. His golden hair spoke volumes all on its own. He was larger in build compared to his dark-haired slender companion and his musculature was more defined. The glow that emanated from all Elves was much enhanced in these warriors from the west and though their bearing was courteous, there was an edge of superiority that flowed from each that set Celeborn's teeth on edge.

"Identify yourselves." He ordered abruptly.

Rion and Noruthalion both bowed low to the silver-haired Moriquendi who was challenging their presence in the camp. This tall elf-lord was quite obviously not one of the Noldor, in fact his colouring stated clearly that he was most likely of Teleri descent, perhaps some kinsman of Elwe Singollo, who had remained on Middle-earth even after experiencing the light of the Two Trees after meeting the Maia Melian. He had subsequently become known as Elu Thingol and had married Melian.

Eonwe had warned them both to be extra courteous in their bearing and behaviour among the Moriquendi. Not all of the elves on Middle-earth welcomed the host's interference, he had told them, and they must be circumspect and respectful at all times.

Rion glanced at Noruthalion who quirked a cynical dark eyebrow at him but said nothing. The silver-haired elf lord who stood glowering at them among the trees also raised an enquiring silver brow and Rion felt as though he had been caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. He decided on the charming, friendly approach.

"My Lord. We come from Lord Eonwe, the Commander of the Host of the West and Herald to Lord Manwe Sulimo, Lord of the Breath of Arda and the Elder King."

Celeborn's expression darkened slightly and he sucked in a deep, irritated breath. "I _know_ who Eonwe is." He said shortly. Did these impudent children think he was ignorant? "Presumably you were charged by Eonwe with some purpose in coming here."

Rion flushed and Celeborn watched with some little fascination as a crimson tide spread over the youth's neck and face. _He is very young._ Thought Celeborn wryly. _Not too far from his majority I would wager. He should not be here where only death or an uncertain future awaits him. He should be without a care, _

_dancing with the maidens in the gardens of the Vanyar._

Yet in the back of the youth's eyes Celeborn could see a faint lurking hardness that told him the young warrior had already seen both battle _and_ death. His mood softened slightly. "Perhaps you have a missive of some kind from Lord Eonwe?"

His tone was kinder and Rion felt a little more confident. Hopefully this _wasn't _the High King and he hadn't made a terrible first impression. He fumbled in his pack and produced a folded parchment that bore an impressive looking red seal. "Yes indeed my Lord…?"

"Celeborn." Celeborn supplied helpfully. "I am Celeborn, Prince of Doriath, kinsman of Elu Thingol and one of the High King's advisors." He held out his hand. "Is this for him? I will see that he gets it. You will obviously stay with us tonight to rest yourselves and your mounts and can travel back to the army of the Valar in the morning with the answer, if there is need for one." His tone was polite, but dismissive.

Relief flooded Rion's face when Celeborn confirmed that he wasn't Gil-galad, but then he blushed again. To hand over Lord Eonwe's letter and then go back had not been his orders from the Herald, but how to say this to this implacable looking, very scary, tall silver lord with the silver eyes and not sound forward or presumptuous was going to be difficult, if not impossible.

Even as Celeborn grasped the parchment, Rion made to hold it back and a rather extraordinary tug of war took place for a next minute or so. The young Vanyarin now had a rather desperate expression on his face and both of Celeborn's eyebrows had climbed up towards his hairline. Some of the red wax of the seal crumbled away in the tussle and flaked gently to the ground.

By this time Glorfindel was properly awake. He got up, leaned against the bole of a tree and watched the growing altercation with rather cynical amusement. After a few moments he was joined by Erestor and Gildor.

"What is going on?" Erestor asked curiously. Gildor masked a huge yawn and peered sleepily at the tableau in front of them.

"We appear to have two visitors from the Blessed Realm." Glorfindel jerked his head towards the red-faced, and slightly harassed looking Vanyarin Elf and his dark-haired companion, who had been silent up to now. "Seems they have some letter for Gil-galad and don't want to let go of it." He gave a chuckle. "I was just betting with myself on the odds of it ripping straight down the middle and ending up unreadable by anybody."

Gildor shook his head and laughed. Erestor gave a deep sigh. "How typical of Celeborn to scare the living daylights out of a couple of babies. It's all that forbidding Dark Elf aura he constantly churns out. Nobody realises that his bark is actually worse than his bite."

A spurt of laughter escaped Glorfindel. "Perhaps his lady should teach him the art of charm and explain that not everyone wants to cut the trees down!"

Gildor gave a bark of laughter. "He would do far better to learn charm from our dour Shipwright than Lady Galadriel. Charm is not yet one of her attributes, forthrightness and blunt devastating honesty are more _her _way. She and Celeborn make a good pair. Of what, I hesitate to say." He turned back to his blanket roll. "Ah well, if this is all the excitement on offer for the night I think I might just close my eyes awhile longer. Let me know if Celeborn and our golden friend come to blows. That might be worthy of me losing my beauty sleep."

"Of which you need much." Erestor murmured provocatively.

Gildor grinned cheerfully at him. "_I_ heard that. You are no stunning portrait yourself, let me tell you."

Glorfindel laughed. This was a constant jibing match between those two, which afforded much amusement among the troops, and the irony was that both were as fair as each other. "Well neither of you compare to me." He struck a flamboyant pose, thrust his finely shaped chin in the air and tempestuously shook his abundant golden hair over his shoulders.

Neither Gildor nor Erestor attempted to dignify the comment, except for a low muttered "Fiddlesticks" from Erestor as he and Gildor settled themselves back down beside the fire. Glorfindel chuckled and joined them after a few seconds.

Meanwhile, back at the altercation, things were not going well. An impasse had been reached and neither proponent was willing to back down.

Noruthalion could see the angry frustration in Rion's eyes and realised that the young warrior had taken his idol's instructions extremely literally, yet had not yet recovered the wit to explain himself properly. He rolled his eyes heavenward and spoke for the first time.

"My Lord Celeborn. Please do not take offence, but our orders from Lord Eonwe were that we were to remain after we had given Lord Gil-galad the letter into his hands alone. It is more than likely that the…_High King_ will want to speak with us regarding the contents."

Celeborn dropped his hand and inclined his head. The slight hesitation in the Noldor's voice as he referred to Gil-galad as the High King was not lost on him and Celeborn realised that it must be strange for this young elf whose allegiance was to his liege lord Finarfin, High King of the Noldor, to refer to another with the same title. Especially since that particular High King was a descendent of the infamous kinslayers.

"I see." He said shortly and beckoned. "Come this way then, I will take you to the _High King_."

In turn, he emphasised the title. It wasn't that he felt he owed Ereinion Gil-galad any allegiance as a monarch, but he was damned if he was going to let these Light Elves know that. Besides which, he was also damned if he was going to let them cast doubts upon Ereinion and his claim to the title either. This was not the Blessed Isle and the sooner these whelps realised that, the better off they would be.

_Pride ever goeth before a fall my love_. A teasing, but much beloved voice tugged at his mind. _As much as we might resent their presence, we need the Host. We cannot fight against Morgoth Baugir alone and without the intervention of the Valar all Middle-earth will come under shadow. You know this as well as I._

_I know._ He replied softly with a melancholic sigh. _But I would not want them to get the idea that we are all puling, week-kneed creatures who cannot stand up for ourselves either._

Galadriel's silvery laughter sounded like bells in his head. _Indeed no my Lord. You have the young Vanyarin positively quaking in his shoes, although the other is so far unimpressed._

Celeborn smiled wickedly to himself and pushed aside the tent flap. "My Lord King." He stepped into the tent followed by Rion and Noruthalion and gave a rather startled Ereinion the deepest bow he had ever given him in their entire acquaintanceship. The High King took an involuntary step back and looked slightly alarmed. "There are two messengers here with a letter for you from Lord Eonwe."

As he stood up and met the High King's bemused grey eyes, he almost burst out laughing at the comical look of surprise in them and Cirdan looked no less startled or confused.

_Too much?_ He queried of his love so far away.

A gurgle of laughter was all he received by way of a reply.

* * *

Gil-galad finished speaking and looked around at the faces in his now crowded tent. A variety expressions could be seen from shock to utter disbelief. He held his hands out and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I take it that you all understand what is being asked of us?" He asked quietly. 

That question unlocked the floodgates and unleashed a furore of voices all trying to speak at once. Ereinion winced and sat down. When he looked up it was to stare directly into the eyes of Eonwe's warriors. The Vanyar, the one called Rion, merely stared back with friendly interest, the dark grey eyes of the Noldor revealed sympathy for the King's dilemma.

"Why does he ask us to do this?" Demanded Celeborn. "To keep us out of the way no doubt." He folded his arms and leant against one of the tent poles which wobbled dangerously. "I tried to tell you that the Valar do not want to involve the Elves of Middle-earth in this battle."

"They probably think we've done enough damage." Cirdan volunteered. There was more than a hint of dry humour in his voice. "Still, the idea of these mortals and their weapons being here does not sound at all well to me."

Celebrimbor who had been lounging in the tent opening now stepped through and stood in front of the Rion and Noruthalion. He produced Kim's missing assault rifle from behind his back and held it out to them "These weapons Eonwe speaks of, are they like this?"

Rion and Noruthalion looked uneasily at each other. The Herald had not described the weapons other than to say that to allow them to fall into the enemy's hands would be very dangerous indeed. This thing that the Feanorian was showing them looked cold and deadly. It looked as though it did not belong here, which of course, it didn't.

"I do not know my Lord." Rion answered softly. "Lord Eonwe did not describe them to us, but I would imagine that this is one of them."

Celebrimbor nodded, then he turned to Ereinion. "If there are more of these and they are on their way to Morgoth, then we _must_ intercept the carrier. If this does what I think it does, which is fire multiple small projectiles at high speed and immense velocity, then even one would create great damage. Many of them would decimate the Host before they even had time to draw a bow or unsheathe a sword."

There was a shocked silence, then where there had been vociferous disagreement before, there were now murmurs of agreement which filtered through the tent and Ereinion stood up with a sigh. "I agree. We must do as Eonwe asks and lend a hand to the mortals. However this means travelling back towards Nan Tathren. And the orc that has the weapons may be well on the road to the north by now."

"We need to send out a small scouting party to search for tracks and another larger party to find the mortals." Celeborn stated firmly. "The whereabouts of the rest of the weapons must be ascertained as well as the current location of their owners."

Ereinion glanced at Rion and Noruthalion. "It is Eonwe's wish that you remain with my force for the time being, at least until this matter is resolved. So shall it be." The two elves bowed their heads in silent assent. Ereinion beckoned to Glorfindel. "Two more warriors for your guard Lord Glorfindel, deploy them as you see fit and see that they and their horses have food and rest. It will be dawn in three hours and we have much to do."

Glorfindel smiled and bowed. "As you command my Lord King." He left the tent taking Rion and Noruthalion with him.

Once the others had left, Ereinion, Celebrimbor, Celeborn and Cirdan held a council of war to discuss the extraordinary situation that had been placed squarely in their hands and would more than likely prevent them from joining up with the main force of the host.

* * *


	18. In an insane world

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers**:

**Ellfine:** Thank you. I am having the doors widened even as I write because I can't get my head through them any more! (Just kidding!) I have a large head anyway; it just doesn't have all that much inside it.

Celeborn is another character that has always fascinated me. He can't have had the easiest marriage in the world and Galadriel always seemed rather 'driven' to me. When everyone else saw her as fair and very wise, I had misgivings about her and always thought she was quite a 'dark' character. Not evil you understand, far from it, but driven, dark, ambitious and not above manipulation, albeit very diplomatic manipulation. Celeborn always struck me as the anchor in that relationship, he was the one who grounded her and submerged many of his own needs and desires so that he could make sure hers were met. If I really wanted to expand Celeborn I would write him in the notion that when she finally sailed to the west, he took some much-needed time to himself and did the things that he really wanted to do before joining her and sinking into obscurity as the son in law of the King. As it is I wanted to at least highlight some of what might have been very real fears for a character like him.

Rion _is _being put through the mill, but he's a tough little baby. Anyway, he'll do fine. Eonwe likes him so he will be able to pretty much write his own ticket when he gets back home.

**Reptile Lover:** Yes it is hard to find decent modern/ancient combinations among fanfics and I must admit to pondering the wisdom of whether to put that in the summary, but since this is primarily a challenge I have set for myself to try and create a believable 'modern folk end up in Middle-earth' story, I thought it would be a shame not to say so. It's one of the reasons why I chose to set it during the War of Wrath which is a rather under-used period by fanfic writers and with canon characters who don't get a lot of press, like Tulkas and Eonwe, or even Gandalf pre-LOTR (Olorin). I am pleased that so far it is working out okay.

In order to avoid many of the clichés of the 'falling into ME' scenario I have so far limited the interaction between the inhabitants of ME and my four characters from 2005 and will continue to do so, even given that Gil-galad and his merry band have now been involved by Eonwe. The touch about Gary actually being a future incarnation of Eonwe sort of slowly developed as I was writing. I thought that the idea of there being a time limit set on Gary-Eonwe being able to occupy the same time period as Eonwe-Eonwe at least gave some substance to the fact that there are two of them and creates a feeling of 'suspense' to the whole thing. Will Gary get the weapons and his little team back before he ceases to exist? And indeed, how will they manage to get back to their own time? And the whole thing being set against the background of increasing geological activity and war gave the whole notion an interesting twist for me to write and hopefully for others to read.

**Pink Panther:** You are welcome to the dedication! Joining the army was a challenge for me especially since I was already 29 by the time I enlisted. I wanted to prove I could do it.

**Chapter 18 – In an insane world, only the insane are sane**

"The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed,  
no matter which side he's on."  
**- Joseph Heller**, _Catch22_

"I think you would do well to keep the mortals as separate from our main force as you can Ereinion. Keep the contact to a minimum. We do not know what these people are capable of, nor do we know of their origins." Cirdan's deep voice interrupted the High King as he pored over a map and tried to extract a possible route that an orc or orcs might use to travel towards the north.

Ereinion's lips pursed. "Aye. I think so too. My biggest concern is whether they will readily accept help from us. If they do have one of these…deadly weapons, then might they not aim them at us first and ask questions later?" He sighed and impatiently brushed a strand of long dark hair behind his ear.

"Indeed they may. It is certain that they will be confused and afraid, not to mention hungry. They will not be at their most rational. Who are you thinking of for the search groups?"

Ereinion frowned slightly. "I had thought Celeborn and Gildor to track the orcs and perhaps Erestor and yourself to head the group that seeks the mortals out. Do you think I should take one of them myself?"

Cirdan looked alarmed. "No! That would not do at all. If the main force is to remain in one position, then your place is with them. If there is trouble they need you to look to for leadership in battle. I would suggest that Glorfindel stays behind with you. The warriors idolise him. It's all the fault of that damn Balrog slaying nonsense."

Ereinion chuckled. "Balrog slaying nonsense? Somehow I do not think that the elves fleeing Gondolin thought of it quite like that. Nor Glorfindel."

Cirdan gave a grudging laugh. "That is not what I meant and you know it. I meant the fact that the warriors seem to believe that Glorfindel now has some special power to protect them against the Balrogs. The fact that Namo saw fit to let him loose and re-embody him into Valinor doesn't help either. There is a glamour about him that is hard to ignore."

The High King's dark eyebrows lifted. "Glamour? A strange way to describe it. The Valar must have had their reasons for sending him to us at this time and yet I do not think that it is his heroic deed that makes the warriors react the way they do towards him. I think it is more that he has this charisma and a light about him that lifts the spirits. Even here his presence sets an incandescent glow that lights up the dark places and chases away shadows. I for one am glad of it."

"I am not immune to his light Ereinion, or his abilities. I think he is a good warrior to have with us, which is why I suggest that you keep him with you." Cirdan stood up, stretched and wandered to the tent opening. "I estimate another hour till dawn. I think I will go and get some rest." He gave the High King the once-over with that penetrating gaze of his. "And so should you."

Ereinion nodded. "Yes, I will, I just need to sort which warriors will go with you and Celeborn." He picked up a quill pen, dipped it into the inkpot and began to write.

Cirdan huffed a sigh and took the quill off him. "Get some rest Ereinion." His voice was stern. "That will keep for another hour. If they have any sense, the mortals will be following the river either north or to the south. Even _they_ must have realised that most settlements are more likely to be alongside the rivers than in the middle of a wood or a plain and they need to find a settlement quickly if they do not want to starve to death. Either way, we should be able to find them quickly I have no doubt of that."

"There is also the concern of the party of orcs that Eonwe mentions in his letter. They may well have not left Nan Tathren and you should go prepared for trouble." Ereinion rubbed his chin wearily.

Cirdan gripped his shoulder and propelled him towards their bedrolls outside the small tent. "I will, and you will now try to get some sleep before you fall over. An exhausted battle commander will be no use to the warriors if you are attacked while our force is divided."

Ereinion grinned and allowed himself to be pushed in the direction of his blankets.

Only seconds later he was wandering in the realms of dreams, the main one of which was an extraordinary, very vivid dream where he was being pursued by a painfully shining Glorfindel who had to be at least twenty foot tall and who was pushing him along a dock that stretched into the distance for what seemed like hundreds of miles so he could take the ship to Valinor before the Balrogs killed him.

* * *

**Along the banks of the River Narog, Nan Tathren, heading northwards**

The brazen heat of the previous day had now given way to a light drizzle. The weather changes were abrupt and, combined with the regular rumblings deep in the earth, made the atmosphere even more oppressive than it had been before. There was a deep sensation of some horribly impending doom or disaster and the fact that, as they trudged along the riverbank in the wake of the light-stepping Elf, they saw no signs of life other than the trees and vegetation only added to the oppression.

Even though it was a fanciful notion, the Chief caught the sensation that the trees themselves were brooding and grieving. The thought that they sensed their own doom and were preparing themselves for it kept insinuating itself into his conscious thoughts and his heart felt unaccountably heavy at the idea of all of this loveliness dying away.

A few yards in front of him, the Elf, who had managed to convey to Kim that his name was Melannen or something along those lines, was guiding them along the riverbank. Kim was walking beside him and Chief was glad to see that her step was livelier than it had been and her face, upturned to the Elf's as they spoke to each other, was vivacious. It occurred to Chief that when she looked happy and relaxed, she was an extraordinarily pretty young woman. Not striking by any means, just very pretty. It was nice to see her shuck off a few of her worries, and she blossomed under the attention of the rather beautiful Melannen.

It was clear to the Chief that the Elf was teaching her some of that Elvish stuff as they walked along and she was returning the compliment by teaching him the English for it. Every now and again Melannen's silvery laughter and her effervescent giggles over some mispronunciation floated back to the three men in the rear and made him and Jim laugh at least. Gary remained rather uncharacteristically silent and morose as he stalked along at the rear of the party.

The Chief decided that Gary was probably sulking and the fact that Melannen had gone on just a brief foraging expedition earlier in the day and came back with some berries and nuts that assuaged their immediate hunger pangs hadn't helped things along on the diplomatic front. Gary's surly and jealous attitude hadn't lifted and his thanks to Melannen had been monosyllabic at best.

For his part Melannen had seemed slightly perturbed rather than offended by Gary's behaviour. He kept glancing anxiously over at Gary while they ate as if he was more concerned that he had offended _him_. Which, of course, brought up the rather more disturbing issue that the Elf obviously seemed to think that he knew Gary. On the other hand, Melannen seemed cheerfully oblivious to what was becoming starkly obvious to both the Chief and Jim; Gary was falling rather painfully in love with Kim and was jealous of the fact that she seemed to prefer Melannen to him.

For the Chief's part, although he had some sympathy for Gary's plight, he could have forgiven the Elf for anything _just_ because he made Kim glow and the Chief knew that in reality she had precious little to glow about in her ordinary, rather hum drum life back at camp.

The trouble was that she was horrendously shy, although no one who didn't know her would have realised it had they seen her talking to Melannen. To the Chief's knowledge Gary was the first man to pay her any real attention since she had arrived at the unit two years earlier. While the other girls could be seen going out together and flirting with the lads in the Mess, she more often than not stayed in her room and avoided social functions unless they were mandatory and the Regimental Sergeant Major ordered attendance by all Senior Ranks. Even then, she made her escape as early as she could.

Consequently nobody in the Sergeant's Mess knew her very well. Most of the men liked the girls who were more lively company, so Kim hugged her solitary life to herself. The other thing was that she rarely took any of her leave unless bullied into it and if she did take it, she spent it in her room in the Mess rather than going on holiday or going home. The Chief didn't even know where 'home' was for her since she never spoke of it _or_ her family.

He had liked her quiet, hard-working demeanour from the beginning. She didn't spend the time she should be working flirting with the men, she did everything that was asked of her with a quiet smile and cool efficiency. He thought she was the most refreshingly pleasant young woman that he met for a long while and he felt very protective of her.

It wasn't that he particularly disapproved of Gary falling in love with her; it was just that it was highly inappropriate for a commissioned officer to make advances to a non-commissioned officer. Fraternisation between officers and other ranks was not encouraged by the highly archaic and rigid class system imposed by the military and was usually punished by separation of the lovers. One, usually the man, was posted into another unit as far away as the Records Office could manage, the other, usually the woman, would remain and be the target for the slings and arrows of outraged military society; usually in the form of the soldier's wives. The Chief would bare his bum in Harrod's shop window before he'd let that happen to Kim.

The Chief glanced back at Gary bringing up the rear. The Major's handsome face was set in grim lines and his eyes, which were dark and depthless, were firmly riveted on Melannen and Kim in the front. The muscle that had started jumping in his clenched jaw earlier was even more pronounced and the Chief got the unnerving impression that he was like a tightly coiled spring just waiting to be unleashed.

In his own way Gary was as beautiful as Melannen, perhaps even more beautiful if that were possible. There was an almost exotic, dangerous beauty about that smooth, deep golden-hued skin and the dark blue eyes with their thick fringe of soot-coloured lashes. Even the smile, when he chose to stop sulking and unleash it, was utterly devastating. The Chief was not usually affected by other men's smiles, but even _he_ admitted that there was something rather gorgeous about it and he found that admission _very_ disturbing indeed.

The fact that Gary seemed to be taller and broader somehow, as if the forest or the very air was sustaining him and making him stronger, was also very disturbing. Chief shook his head at yet another fanciful notion. What with that, Gary's stunning smile getting under his skin and the bloody trees talking to him, the only place _he'd_ be going when he got home was to a nice padded room with a personalised straitjacket.

The thought was rather appealing somehow.

He abruptly decided that it was time to have that little talk with the good Major before open warfare was declared between him and the Elf. With that in mind he dropped back and fell into step beside Gary who didn't even give him a sideways glance.

"Were you always this tall?"

Gary's thoughts had been brooding on Melannen and Kim happily skipping along in front, or so seemed to him. The sight was the cause of a sharp pain in the region of his chest and a tightening of his gut. He was so immersed in his jealousy and anger that the Chief's mild comment took him by surprise.

"Huh?"

"You seem taller." The Chief's tone was light and conversational, as though they were taking a nice little stroll rather than trying to escape to civilisation, wherever _that _was.

"Taller than what?"

The Chief chuckled. This was not how he had envisaged this conversation going. "Taller than you were before. How tall _are_ you by the way?"

Gary frowned, as though the question was the hardest he'd ever had to answer. "I don't know, I don't think I've been measured since I enlisted. Six foot six maybe?"

"Well I'm six three and you are a lot taller than me."

"Is it a competition or something?" Gary just sounded irritated now.

The Chief grinned. "No, just an inoffensive way of opening a conversation with someone who looks like he wants to murder everyone in sight!"

They heard Jim choke off a hoot of laughter from in front of them and Gary gave a reluctant chuckle. "Do I really look as bad as that?" He asked.

"Yes." Both Jim and the Chief chorused.

Gary sighed, shifted the weapon to a more comfortable spot on his shoulder and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I don't mean to. I'm sorry. It's just this whole situation is far too weird and that Melannen chap is setting my teeth on edge. I'm not sure I like the idea of Sgt Freeman being so…open with him. We don't know who he is or where he comes from."

"He seems a harmless enough bloke." The Chief responded mildly.

Without preamble Gary suddenly turned a glittering wrathful gaze on him. "He is a fierce and terrible Elven warrior, my friend not some harmless bloke."

The Chief stood his ground but his eyes narrowed. "Now why would you say something like that sir?"

Gary blinked and a confused expression passed over his face. "Like what?"

The Chief sighed deeply. Most conversations with Gary were becoming very strange now. He kept saying things in the middle of them that sounded as though someone else was saying them. The Chief decided to gloss over it. "Never mind sir. It doesn't matter."

Gary wouldn't let it drop. "I'm doing it again aren't I? Saying crazy things." His voice sounded distressed.

"Not so much crazy." The Chief demurred in a cautious voice in an attempt to reassure him. "Just…well…it's as if someone else is talking through you."

"I don't even know I'm doing it." Gary sounded wretched. "It's getting worse, the further along we go and I keep having strange thoughts or daydreams, or something."

"About what?"

"I'm not sure. Its just fragments of what seems to be some kind of dream to be honest. Earlier on, after we ate and stopped for a rest, I dozed off for a few seconds and when I woke up it's as if I was somewhere else, in a forest still, just not _this_ forest, and I was surrounded by tents with bright pennants and horses. Someone…a tall, golden haired, bearded man was talking to me and I was trying to answer him when everything cleared and then I was back with you guys."

"How long has this been happening? Have you been having these all along?" The Chief was now more than a little worried, but he desperately tried to conceal it.

Gary shook his head. "No. Just in the last day, since we killed the orcs and Melannen joined us really. They weren't so pronounced before, just wisps of thought really. The first pronounced one was the one I just described to you." He hunched his shoulders miserably. "It felt as if someone else had taken over for a few seconds, just like you said just now. I'm sorry Chief, I know I'm not really making much sense, but it's the best I can do by way of an explanation."

"You're tired sir. We're _all _tired, but it's bound to be more stressful for you because of the fact that you're in charge of us. We could do with a bloody good night's sleep in a nice bed, a square meal and a proper bath."

"I suppose so, but I don't think I'll be holding my breath for it." Gary replied quietly. He glanced back up at Melannen and Kim. "_That_ isn't helping much." He said bitterly.

"Ah. Yes. About that." The Chief cleared his throat. "I've been meaning to have a word with you about Kim."

Gary grimaced. "Am I going to get the fatherly lecture on fraternisation now?"

"If you like." The Chief replied calmly. "I'm not blind sir. I can see how you feel just by the way you look at them and the way you and Kim look at each other. Now, we're far away from home and it might seem like an easy thing to do, to fall in love with the lone female in our little group, but you're not going to do her any favours by pressing your suit."

A dangerous glint appeared in Gary's eyes. "Are you warning me to stay away from her Sergeant Major?" His tone was soft, but there was an edge to it that told Chief he would have to word his reply very carefully.

"I wouldn't presume to warn you off sir. Kim's a grown woman and wouldn't thank me for that." He replied in a calm, level tone. "However, she is also a member of my staff and as such, is under my protection. Come on sir, you _know_ what happens when officers fraternise with other ranks and in this place." He gestured around him. "And in this time, whatever this time is, there is nothing to hinder it. No Ministry of Defence, no Commanding Officer and no military authority of any kind. There's just us. What _I'm_ worried about is what happens when we get back home to our own time, place, or whatever. Kim doesn't have that much in her life except for what she's achieved in the Army. You know as well as I do that any relationship between you could finish all of that, not just for her, but for you as well. Do you really want to do that to her, or yourself?"

"Do you think my feelings towards her are so shallow then?" Gary's tone was cool.

"It doesn't matter _what _I think about how you feel. It matters what _she_ thinks and what your intentions are towards her. Leave her be sir, please, I'm asking, not telling you. I know she returns your interest and I don't want to see her hurt. Stay with your own kind, you'll both be better off."

Gary raised an eyebrow. "My own kind? And who might that be Sergeant Major?"

The Chief was unimpressed by the now decidedly dangerous note in Gary's voice. He met Gary's gaze firmly and directly. "You know fine well what I mean sir. The kind of ladies that generally come to the Officers Mess, the ones who know about your kind of world and how to conduct themselves in it. Kim would be in over her head in that environment and you know it. The stigma of her dating a man out of her class and rank structure would follow her and not even you would be able to protect her from any insinuations or slurs. I've seen it happen far too many times. It might work in Civvy Street, but not in the British Army. The military is too set in its ways."

As much as Gary wanted to protest against the Chief's comments, he found that he couldn't. He'd seen it too, especially among the officer's wives. They had this 'radar' that told them when someone didn't fit and he'd seen them go in for the kill before. Did he want that for Kim? The answer had to be no, he just wanted to hold her, love her and keep her safe from everyone. The idea of letting her go filled him with deep pain and he knew, deep inside, that if things developed any further he wouldn't be able to do it. It might even be too late already. The irony of the whole thing was that she seemed more interested in the otherworldly beauty of the Elf than in him.

Somewhere along the line he was convinced that he'd blown it with her anyway.

He sighed. "I don't think it matters Chief. In any case I think I've messed up my chances with her. I keep having to pull rank on her and I know she hates me for it, but I _have_ to do it." He looked up at Chief under those incredible lashes and his eyes now held a pleading expression in them. "If I'm to get us back, I have to maintain tight command of the group. I can't tell Melannen or whatever his name is what to do, but I _can_ keep a grip of those people I _am_ responsible for. I know Kim doesn't like it, but she's in the army no matter how far away we are from home, I am her superior officer and she will have to obey my orders."

He gazed at Kim with such longing that the Chief almost retracted everything. Had he done the right thing in speaking to Gary? After a moment's reflection he decided that he had. At least Gary now knew that she wasn't unprotected and he'd think twice about pushing himself on her. "I think it's for the best sir." He said in the most neutral tone he could muster.

Gary gave him a wry smile. "The best? I wonder. I can't promise not to fall in love with her Chief. I think the damage has already been done there. All I can do is promise not to press my suit without telling her what she would be letting herself in for. But be warned, if she _is _interested and wants to make a go of it after she's in possession of all the facts, I am not going to turn her away, but it will be up to her and I will stand by her decision."

"Fair enough." The Chief took his attention off Gary and walked smack into Jim who had stopped dead. "What the fuck?"

Jim pointed at Melannen.

The Elf had stopped and his head was cocked on one side, his gaze directed along the path beyond a particularly thick group of trees. Gary noticed that he had pushed Kim behind him and that she was standing with a look of trepidation on her face. He walked past Jim and the Chief and up to where Melannen and Kim were standing.

"Go and stand with Jim and the Chief, Sgt Freeman." He said softly. At the same time he swung the weapon off his shoulder and cocked it as softly as he could. He took a rather perverse pleasure in noting that Melannen winced slightly as he did so. The Elf was noticeably nervous around whoever had the weapon.

Kim nodded. "Yes sir."

Gary was pleased to see she obeyed him instantly. Melannen was still listening and when Gary opened his mouth to speak the Elf laid a slender, gentle finger on his lips to stop him. "Cotumo" (1) He whispered and made a slitting motion with his hand across his throat. He grasped Gary's sleeve and pointed directly in front of him. "Orch!" (2)

Gary took that to mean that the Elf thought that some of those creatures were up ahead, but Melannen's expression also said that he wasn't altogether sure, then to Gary's outright astonishment he flung himself down and pressed his ear to the ground. After a second more of listening he leapt to his feet again and gestured that they should get away from the bank and hide in the trees.

Neither Gary nor any of the others gave an argument. Within seconds they were all concealed among the trees and Gary had the weapon pointed in the direction of where Melannen had been pointing earlier.

_Whoever _came down that path was going to regret the day they were born.

* * *

**Cotumo** (Quenya) Meaning 'enemy'

**Orch** (Sindarin) Meaning 'orc'

**NB: **Melannen tries to speak a mixture of both Sindarin and Quenya to get his point across since he isn't sure whether Gary and the others speak either of the languages beyond a few words.


	19. You, you & you panic

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter Two

**Notes to Reviewers**: This note is going to end up being longer than the chapter! ;)

Again thanks to those who reviewed. Ellfine and Pink Panther, your thoughts are always appreciated.

**Reptile Lover**: I agree with you about the Orcish weapons and will address that in the following chapter. I did at one stage consider the idea of Gary and Co pilfering the dead orcs' packs and taking anything that might have been useful food-wise. However, I then realised that the whole point of the two groups being trapped together in one place by the veil that Eru placed over Nan Tathren was that they were suffering similar problems. Each was harassing the other, each group was just as trapped as the other and they were both running out of resources, especially food. The Orcs because they had lingered so long in 2005 that they became trapped until they found their way through the thinning of the fabric of the dimensions and Gary and Co because they simply didn't set out equipped for a journey of any kind.

As to the dynamics of British Army military base society, the civilians and the soldiers most certainly do meet each other. Many of the army wives work in a civvy capacity on camp. Most of the married soldiers, officers, senior and junior ranks, live on the Married Quarters, commonly called 'The Patch'. They socialise together in the respective Messes, which is where single officers and senior ranks live. The single soldiers usually live in barracks, although I should point out that because of the rigid rank structure and hierarchy of the military this means that although everyone knows everyone else, the divisions between officers, sergeants and men is no less rigidly enforced.

The Officers' Wives would know that Kim was just a Sergeant, just as the NCOs' and Soldiers' wives would know that she had stepped out of her 'class' in order to date an officer. Neither party would make it easy for her. She would not be accepted by the Officers' wives, who would think she was a common upstart and she would be scoffed at and ignored by the NCO's and Soldiers' wives and indeed many of her fellow Mess members for getting 'above herself'. The Regimental Sergeant Major would invite her for 'an interview without coffee' and she would be told to clean her act up, meaning end the relationship or take the consequences. The Commanding Officer wouldn't be so direct with Gary. He would take him aside on some social occasion in the Mess, casually but pointedly ask him what was going on and then gently warn him that his career is at stake if he doesn't clean his act up.

Add to this that fraternisation is punished and you have the situation that Chief is concerned about. Believe me, I have seen it happen many, many times and seldom is there a happy ending unless one of the couple leaves the military altogether. Even then, the Records Department would still post the one who remains in service to another unit and the one who was now the civilian would have to follow them.

The general theory is that there is no class system any more, but there **is **an unspoken class system still in place in England and it's very much alive and well in the British Military.

Cliff-hangers can be a useful tool if you want to encourage people to read on!

**Chapter 19 – You, you & you...panic, the rest come with me**

"If you see a bomb disposal technician running,  
try to keep up with him"  
**US Army Ordnance manual.**

"Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword obviously never  
encountered automatic weapons."  
**-General Douglas MacArthur**

**The forest of Nan Tathren, along the banks of the River Narog, West Beleriand**

If the forest had been relatively silent before, now one could have heard a pin drop. Kim could feel a trickle of sweat snaking its way down the middle of her back and she surreptitiously changed her sweaty grip on the disgusting sword that Gary had given her when he doled out the available weaponry that they had picked up from the dead creatures.

Granted he had cleaned the black blood and other gross looking substances off it and Melannen had shown her how to sharpen it on one of the rocks, but as a whetstone the rock left a lot to be desired. Kim could hardly lift the heavy sword and very much doubted whether she could do more than poke someone gently in the ribs with it. There was no way the stupid thing would slice through flesh without some great force behind the thrust. A force she didn't think she possessed.

Jim Moore looked less like a policeman and more like a disreputable pirate as the days wore on. He had ripped up part of his shirt and tied it like a bandanna around his head, now all he needed was an eye patch and his hair and beard to get longer and he would resemble Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp on a bad day it had to be noted, but being dark haired and dark eyed, he definitely resembled the actor in his Pirates of the Caribbean role to some degree, especially since he now wielded a rather wicked looking curved sword that looked like a scimitar of sorts.

Strangely enough the Chief wasn't wearing too badly. His uniform was reasonably intact and he hadn't cannibalised any of his clothing, but what had been a light stubble three days ago was now a soft light brown beard liberally streaked with grey. He looked like one of those American GI types who had been on patrol for a couple of weeks, tough and uncompromising. She could well imagine him as a Royal Marine commando.

Kim's elastic for her hair had snapped and fallen off. Despite frantically scrabbling around in the grass for it, the elastic stubbornly refused to be found and after patiently waiting for her to find it Gary had finally snapped.

"For god's sake Sergeant, just leave it. We _all_ look a bloody sight and wouldn't pass muster on parade. Leave your hair down. I promise none of us will tell on you. It looks better down anyway." He added as an aside.

As she lay there in the undergrowth with the long feathery grass tickling her cheek and an exposed tree root digging in her left upper thigh it suddenly occurred to Kim that out of all of them, Gary looked the least dishevelled. Even in a few days his hair had grown a ton and was resting on his collar. She noticed that it was rather a nice sort of golden brown colour and took the opportunity of admiring it while his attention was occupied with staring through the weapon sight at the so far non-existent enemy force.

The thing that Jim and the Chief had that Gary didn't have was a beard. The handsome Major didn't even have a tiny bit of stubble. His skin was as smooth and golden as it had been since the first day she met him. He also looked clean. Kim gazed enviously at him and Melannen who, despite everything he'd been through, also looked almost pristine. Right at that moment, considering she could smell her own bodily odours wafting up at her and her hair was stuck to her head with two days' worth of grease and sweat, she hated both Gary and the Elf with a passion. There was simply no justice in the world

She sighed. What she would give to feel clean and if they didn't hit any kind of civilisation soon she was going to have a whole other problem to worry about, a slight twinge of cramp in her lower abdomen and back heralded the very thing she had spent the last couple of days hoping would go away, or at least be late.

What on earth were they waiting for? It had been at least twenty minutes and there wasn't sign of _anyone_ coming down the path towards them. She manoeuvred onto her side and opened her mouth to suggest that perhaps Melannen had been mistaken.

As if they all had eyes in the back of their heads, Gary, the Chief and Melannen all turned around with one accord, their fingers against their lips in the age old gesture meaning 'shut the fuck up, _before_ you say anything'

Kim scowled ferociously and sank back down. She ignored Jim's expression of sympathy.

_Okay, OKAY I get the message_. She thought to herself, but also blushed with embarrassment at being reprimanded yet again, this time also by the Chief _and _Melannen. She hunched resentfully further down in the grass and stared ahead with a mutinous expression on her face.

_I've never pretended to be a real soldier._ She thought angrily. _I'm a clerk for god's sake, a shiny bum. Shiny bums don't go and do roughie toughie soldier things. They dress in skirts and black court shoes. They wander around unit HQ looking decorative, cool, calm and collected. They type, file and make tea. _

Once a year she had to do the regimental training stuff just like all the rest of the clerks, drivers and cooks, along with the sick, lame and lazy who were on remedial training. Like everyone else she had to complete an Annual Personal Weapons Test and do her BFT. (1) Once that was over with, the rest of the year she did unit PT on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and pranced around doing Pilates in her spare time. That was the sum total of her involvement with staying fit to fight.

Now here she was, armed to the teeth with a huge fuck-off sword that took both hands to lift, filthy, smelly, pissed off and angry with her companions for being snooty, up their own arseholes and right all the time.

Life sucked.

She hunched down even further and swore that if she got out of this alive, she would never speak to that arrogant, know it all bastard Matthews again as long as she lived.

A fly buzzed in her ear but she didn't dare lift a hand to swat it away in case they all frowned at her again. The trickle of sweat became a rivulet and the twinge of cramp became a stab of pain down the front of her thighs accompanied by a tell tale feeling of dampness in between her legs.

_Oh god no._ A sensation of panic almost overcame her. _Not now. PLEASE not now._ She pleaded. But it was in vain. Her treacherous body had betrayed her and her period had come early.

At the same time as this horrid realisation hit Kim, a noise of heavy clumping and shuffling could be heard gradually getting closer to their position.

* * *

Gary shifted his aim very slightly. Once again it was a case of making every shot count. He only hoped he could do as well as the Chief had a few hours earlier. He heard Kim's slight indrawn hiss of breath as a party of at least two dozen of those hideous creatures that Melannen called 'orch' came through the trees but didn't have either the time or the heart to tell her to be quiet. All he could do was hope to protect her for as long as he could or at least reach her in time to cut her throat before those creatures did.

This was no stealthy organised group, they weren't even as disciplined as Thadak's motley crew. There was no point man and no 'tail end Charlie', the average four man patrol in Northern Ireland could have taught this bunch of disfigured misfits a thing or two. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the spectacle these things displayed. They were all shapes and sizes, but all had one thing in common beside their leprous and scaly grey skin and sparse matted hair; they _all_ had an animal-like cunning in their eyes that indicated some form of intelligence at least.

There didn't appear to be a leader among them, instead they all milled around aimlessly, scuffling up the dirt and mud from the riverbank, snapping and growling at one another and squabbling amongst themselves. Two of them were especially aggressive and it was only the action of another of the group smacking both of them over the back of the head in turn with the flat of his iron sword that stopped them from killing each other.

At first it appeared that none of the group were aware they were being watched, until the orc that had smacked the other two abruptly held up his hand and gave a peremptory growl in that unintelligible speech of theirs. They all stopped dead and the self-appointed leader sniffed the air cautiously. The first sign of caution _any_ of them had shown since their appearance through the trees.

His gaze swept around the area and finally rested on the bushes and trees where Gary, Melannen and the others were concealed.

He grinned in triumph. "I smell man-flesh! We will eat well tonight." He roared and pointed in the direction of the bushes with his sword. With howls and ululating cries of enthusiasm they advanced en masse towards their prey.

Kim gulped, clutched her sword and prepared to jump to her feet. Beside her she could see Jim preparing to do the same. Melannen was already in a crouching position, his fair face now held a grim and terrible expression and he held his sword in a professional manner that simply screamed 'expert swordsman'. Beside him the Chief was crouched in a similar way, weapon held loosely but confidently.

Gary was the only one who remained in a prone position on the ground. After coming to the conclusion that the horde would be upon them in seconds rather than minutes, he finally gave up on the idea of picking them off like Chief had before. Instead he prepared to stand up and let loose a volley of shots. Desperate situations called for desperate measures and even if it meant using up the precious ammo, he knew that if he didn't cut down the bulk of the attacking group the game would be up.

As the Orcs thundered towards them screaming, howling and brandishing their swords, axes and spears, he suddenly stood up in the long grass and fired a burst at the main body.

* * *

The burst of rapid fire from the automatic weapon crackled through the still air and startled the horses carrying Cirdan, Erestor, Rion and Noruthalion along with a further twenty warriors from Ereinion's main battle group.

Cirdan cursed as his horse spooked and side-stepped, threatening to unseat him. Erestor and the others were having similar difficulties. Elven horses were usually very tractable and amiable, a few gentle words could calm them, but being intelligent animals they could certainly tell when a noise was out of place.

And there was no doubt at all that the rattling of gunfire was _not _a sound that had any place or business being in Middle-earth in the First Age.

"What in the name of Eru was that?" Rion's face had gone quite pale. Noruthalion managed to get his horse under control and grabbed for the bridle of Rion's horse to help settle it down.

Celebrimbor urged his horse forward until he was beside Cirdan who was scowling at his horse's neck. Like all Elves Cirdan loved animals and was no stranger to horses, but was far more at home on the deck of a ship or stripped to the waist building a ship in the dry dock than he was on horseback. He looked up at Celebrimbor and noted with dry amusement that the Feanorian's face was alight with a fire reminiscent of his infamous grandfather.

"That was one of the strange weapons." Celebrimbor announced. "I am convinced of it. The mortals must be under attack. We should go and help them."

Cirdan gave him a measured glance. "Do you have the other weapon with you or did you leave it behind with the High King?"

Celebrimbor flushed guiltily. He fumbled in his saddlebag and pulled out Kim's assault rifle. "I have it here." He said apologetically. "Gil-galad never said to leave it with him. But it is useless without the projectiles and some method of propelling them." His voice trailed off lamely.

Cirdan shook his head and expelled an exasperated sigh. "Never mind. It is too late to take it back now. Put it back in the bag. I agree we must help but given what you have said the weapon's capabilities are, and if that sound was one of them being fired, do we really want to risk just riding in there without knowing what we are riding into? Whoever is using the weapon, it was fired to both to protect and kill, who knows whether we would be the next target if we just go thundering in there without knowledge. Erestor?"

The slim dark-haired Noldo looked at him and smiled. "Lord Cirdan?"

"I can think of no one better qualified to sneak around and obtain some intelligence than you, my friend. Go and do your stuff."

Erestor gave a snort of laughter. "Sneak? Do my stuff? What _are_ you inferring Lord Cirdan?" He arched an eloquent eyebrow in mocking enquiry but only met Cirdan's implacable pale blue gaze, so he slid off his horse and removed his cloak which he folded and placed in his pack. Underneath the dark folds of cloth he was dressed simply in green and grey. A sword hung in a simple leather scabbard on his left side and a long carved bone handled knife rested in a leather sheath under his right arm.

Within moments he had blended into the trees like a wisp of insubstantial smoke.

"What now?" Celebrimbor asked testily. He was itching to get a glimpse of one of these enticing weapons in action.

Cirdan relaxed and patted the horse's neck. "Now we wait."

Celebrimbor sighed despondently and slumped in the saddle.

* * *

By the time Erestor had made his way through the trees to the riverbank, firing had stopped and hand-to-hand combat was in full swing. His sharp eyes swept around the scene in front of him and his drew his sword from the scabbard. There was no time to go back and fetch Cirdan and the others to help, he just had to hope that when he didn't come back, they would realise and ride up.

About a half a dozen dead Orcs were strewn across the path, cut down in the hail of bullets from the rifle, but Gary had now slung it on his back and had picked up the Orc battleaxe he had selected for himself when the first screaming Orc reached him. With one powerful swing he decapitated the Orc and clove the head of the next one, then he pivoted around and buried it in the chest of the Orc who had rushed up behind him hoping to catch him off guard.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Chief making a very good account of himself with his sword, he was hacking, thrusting and slashing as if he been using the weapon all of his life.

If there had been time or a lull in the fighting Gary would have stood and watched the elegant dance that Melannen was doing as he efficiently and gracefully dispatched his opponents. There was a fierce light in the bright eyes and his hair swung like a golden banner in the dappled sunlight piercing the leaves. As it was Gary could only mentally salute and admire the apparent ease with which the Elf fought.

Then he remembered Kim and her vulnerability and the blow that he struck a thin faced, particularly vicious-looking Orc faltered and glanced off the metal and leather armour rather than slicing through it. The Orc screeched in triumph and thrust his sword towards Gary's midriff. Melannen saw it happen and let out a gasp of dismay, but he simply wasn't close enough to help out.

What happened next was witnessed by not only the Chief and Melannen, but also Erestor who had stepped out from behind the trees and was preparing to join the fray. Gary seemed to grow in height and the glow from his skin became almost too bright to look at. Almost swifter than the speed of light, too swift for a mere human, a powerful arm reached out, grabbed the Orc by his skinny throat and shook him like a terrier shaking a rat. Dark blue eyes blazed with a radiant light and the mouth that could smile so beautifully twisted with cold anger.

The creature gazed into that terrible visage and knew that his last moments in Middle-earth had arrived. The sword dropped from his numb fingers, but did not fall to the ground. Gary caught it before it landed and thrust it deep into its owner's innards.

Melannen laughed with joy. His suspicions regarding Gary were confirmed as far as he was concerned. This was indeed Eonwe, even if his memories _were_ damaged somehow. Only two races had that kind of speed of movement and sheer physical strength, Elves or the Maiar. He gave Gary a brief salute with his sword and then sprang back into the battle.

The Chief didn't have time to stop and watch the spectacle, but he was suddenly struck with the absurd notion that Gary had metamorphosed into an ancient, magical warrior in front of his very eyes. Sweat dribbled down his face and his vision blurred slightly. Through the blur he saw one of the Orcs bearing down on him, axed raised and in that moment thought his time was finally up. He flung the battered shield he was carrying up in front of his face and braced himself for the blow. After what felt like an eternity, the threatened blow still hadn't fallen and instead he found himself being steadied on his feet by a slim, but immensely strong hand.

His startled gaze met dark, jewel-like eyes. Long lustrous dark hair braided back in the same fashion as Melannen's framed a slender face of such delicate beauty that it literally socked all the breath out of him. The Elf smiled and spoke to him. Chief managed a tremulous smile back and gestured that he didn't understand. Erestor raised an eyebrow and nodded in brief understanding. He placed a hand briefly on the Chief's arm as though acknowledging a fellow warrior and the next instant they were fighting side by side as if they had been comrades forever.

Kim and Jim Moore had their own problems. He had stuck by her side fighting off whoever came near them single-handedly, knowing that her upper arm strength was limited, far more limited than a man's. She had almost frozen to the spot with terror when one of the Orcs spotted her and made a beeline for her. Jim cut him down with a killing blow from the scimitar and surprised himself with his efficiency. As the Orc crumpled in a heap at his feet, Jim lifted the weapon and looked at it with surprise on his face, as though it had done the killing all on its own without his help.

The hesitation nearly cost him his life. He saw Kim's eyes widen with fright and half turned in time to see another Orc only feet away aiming a thick spear at him. He ducked to one side dragging Kim with him and they fell to the ground as the spear whistled past uncomfortably close to them. Jim fell heavily to the ground on his side and was momentarily winded, Kim fell to her knees and managed to scramble to her feet as the spear wielding Orc drew his sword and thundered up to them intent on skewering the dazed Jim into the ground.

A haze of anger passed across Kim. "NO!" She screamed and hefted the huge sword in both hands. The orc ignored her and started to bring down the sword in a wide arc that would virtually cut Jim in two. Iron met iron with a dulling clanging sound as Kim managed to parry the powerful blow more by good luck and desperation than good management. The reverberation from the impact thrummed painfully through her arms and into her shoulders but she was so angry that she took no notice of it. With a defiant scream she took a step back and the blades disengaged, but before the surprised Orc could recover and lunge at her, she thrust her sword with a hiss of fury directly into his gut and turned it with all the strength she had in her arms.

As the dying Orc fell forwards, the weight of his body pushed the sword all the way through until the tip appeared through the cracked leather of his armour at the back. A massive gout of thick black blood sprayed out. Kim gasped and let go of the sword hilt then jumped back just as the Orc's heavy body threatened to bear her down to the ground with it.

Gary, Erestor and Melannen saw it happen, but none of them were close enough to aid her. Gary's feeling of utter desperation and horror when he saw Jim on the ground and Kim on her knees reached depths thus far unplumbed. He despatched the two creatures he was fighting and leapt towards Kim, even as Erestor and Melannen did the same. The Chief killed the remaining Orc, but not before he had been slashed down his left forearm with a sharp knife that rent clean through his thick combat jacket and left raw bleeding flesh exposed almost down to the bone. He flung his sword down, dropped to his knees and grasped his arm. His face was a mask of pain.

By the time Gary and the others reached Kim, she was standing still, staring blindly down at her victim's body, which had the sword still firmly stuck through it.

Melannen gently grasped Kim by her arm and turned her to him. Gary bent down to Jim and spoke to him, trying to make sure that he was in one piece while Erestor stood by quietly with a look of puzzlement in his eyes.

Kim's eyes were blank. She stared up at him dully. "I killed him." She said in a toneless voice.

Gary helped Jim to his feet and stared at Erestor. Finally he nodded. "Le hannon." He said quietly. Erestor inclined his head and smiled, but said nothing further; instead his bright, bird-like gaze flickered from one person to the other in fascination.

"I killed him." Kim repeated and a concerned look passed across Melannen's face. He didn't understand what she was saying, but he knew enough to realise that she was just saying the same thing. He looked over at Gary helplessly.

"Are you okay?" Gary asked Jim who nodded.

"Yeah. I'll live. I was just winded." He jerked his head towards Kim. "Go and see to her Gary, she's in shock."

Gary stepped over to Kim's side, gently cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face so that she was looking directly at him. The blank look had left her eyes; but they were now awash with tears and her bottom lip was wobbling.

"I killed him." She repeated.

"Yes you did Sergeant, and that was very well done of you." He said softly, brushing her sticky hair away from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear.

A faint smile replaced the worried expression on Melannen's face and he left Kim in Gary's capable hands while he went to speak to Erestor who had gone over to examine the Chief who was sitting on the ground nursing his blood soaked arm.

"I killed him." Kim didn't seem to be able to stop saying it in that tiny hopeless voice and Gary's heart split in two. He would have given anything to protect her from all of this, but when the chips were down she had come through and shown her quality.

"It's okay Kim. It's okay to feel bad." He kept his voice low and reassuring. "The first is always the worst."

She burst into tears, bent double and promptly threw up all over his boots.

* * *


	20. You want me to do what?

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to Reviewers**:

Many apologies for the delay in updating. Life got a bit hectic, the London bombings didn't help and my son has been nagging me to level my World of Warcraft character since I now have a new computer that can cope with the game instead of whimpering in the corner and having a nervous breakdown like the old computer did.

**Ellfine/Pink Panther**: I guess the 'curse' is a cross we have to bear. I think men should have something similar except that they would all whine that they couldn't go into work today because their belly hurts. The lack of amenities in Middle-earth would not help a modern woman's dilemma.

**Blackadder:** Welcome! Thank you for posting the story as an Antidote, I appreciate that greatly, it's a wonderful compliment. You are second-guessing me about Celebrimbor, Curunir and the projectiles, but I don't mind at all. This is exactly what I had in mind when I devised this part of the plot. Curunir blew up the walls of Helm's Deep with his homemade bomb and it was that which gave me the idea. Celebrimbor always struck me as being a genius of sorts, so who else would be able to strip a modern weapon, figure out its mechanism and then come up with some way of making it work?

I have stated before to someone that Kim is not me, however, much of what is happening to her happened to me and many other female soldiers. I have been out in the field on exercise when my period started and have been unable to wash for four or five days, so these experiences that I am attributing to her, are, in fact all mine. I have to say though, that I didn't have a 'hot' guy lusting after me at the same time and to be honest it wasn't a situation conducive to romance! Kim is really out of her element just as many women who join the army are. Not all of them are 'ball busters' and behave more macho than the men, although there are a fair few who do. Unfortunately the situation for Kim will not improve terribly for the plain and simple reason that she is a woman of 2005 and not a woman of Middle-earth with all the attendant problems of inequality and the physical difficulties. The fact that she is a professional soldier, just like Gary and the Chief, doesn't weigh with the Middle-earth folk she meets up with.

**LucyTia:** I am very flattered that you like it and I apologise for disrupting the beta session! Yes there are a lot of personal experiences woven into the story. The character development side has come from my original fiction. One has little choice in original work but to develop characters from just an idea. I usually use composites of nearly everyone I've met. I think my friends dread it when I'm putting characters together in case they see something of themselves in them.

**Reptile Lover**: No problem. It can be confusing especially if you live in a different country where the rules are different. The situation would not be different if the situations were reversed. If the woman was a higher rank than the man, then she would have the quiet word in her ear and the man would have the interview without coffee!

**Chapter 20 – You want me to do _what_?**

"It is the unconquerable nature of man and  
not the nature of the weapon he uses that ensures victory."  
**- General George Patton Jr **

"Whenever you have plenty of ammo, you never miss.  
Whenever you are low on ammo, you can't hit the broad side of a barn."  
- **Murphy's Law of Combat Operations**

In the heat of battle and the ensuing cool-down of the aftermath, not even the Elves detected the presence of another being at the scene. Olorin, in non-corporeal form, watched in fascination as the person he had long known as Eonwe approached the young woman who had obviously just made her first kill.

He saw the Herald's tender gesture towards her as he cupped her chin and reassured her, he also saw the deepening of love in the dark blue eyes, although she looked too upset to notice. When she emptied the contents of her stomach all over Eonwe's boots, he smothered back a desire to laugh at the Maia's discomfiture, even though no one could have heard him.

Watching this version of Eonwe was by far the most interesting pastime. Seeing the nature of Morgoth's creation, the orc, for the first time was only marginally in second place. However, seeing the mortal's weapons in action utterly appalled him and for the first time since Varda Elentari had briefed him on his task, he totally understood the need for these hideous things to be eliminated from the equation. If they fell into the hands of Morgoth, all would be lost. Not even Eonwe, mightiest in arms among the Maiar, would be able to prevail against such weapons of mass destruction.

However, ridding Middle-earth of such things was not his appointed task. _His _instructions were quite clear. How to achieve them was less clear.

His gaze was drawn away from Eonwe and the woman and finally rested with the man sitting on the ground. Erestor and Melannen had cut away part of the jacket he was wearing and exposed a rather nasty, but not life-threatening, injury. The flesh had been sliced right down to the bone and the other mortal, who had a rather strange name that sounded like 'Zhim', had brought some water over from the river. He took over from Erestor and very efficiently cleaned the wound binding it with a bandage of sorts that the injured man apparently had in one of his pockets. (1). The injured man's face had a pallor that suggested loss of blood and the thin sheen of sweat indicated a fair amount of pain, yet in spite of that he bore it all with dignity and a ready smile for those helping him.

Olorin decided that he liked this mortal and a plan began to formulate in his mind.

* * *

"You should go and see to Chief Knowles." Kim wiped her eyes and took a swill of the water Gary offered her out of Chief's now battered hipflask. "He looks quite badly hurt."

He smiled at her. "He has enough competent people flapping around him without me getting in the way." He looked over at the two Elves and sighed. "I do wonder where the other guy came from though. One minute he wasn't there, the next he was. Not that I am complaining, it would have perhaps gone badly had he not arrived."

"Perhaps he was just passing by, or taking a stroll through the woods." Kim suggested.

"In a wild wood chock filled with nasty creatures? No. That's far too coincidental to my mind. He doesn't look that daft to me, and he's armed to the teeth." Gary frowned and nodded towards the crouching Melannen. "He came prepared for trouble and I think he might have been sent to look for our golden friend over there."

A strange little smile twisted Kim's mouth. "You don't like Melannen very much do you?"

Gary looked surprised. "Not like him? What gave you that idea? I neither like nor dislike him. I don't know him."

_And neither do you_. He wanted to finish off by saying, yet some deep intuitive part of him realised that it would totally the wrong thing to say to her. Instinctively he knew that he needed to box very clever in the subject of the Elf, but he also knew that he had already decided, against the Chief's advice, that he wanted to press his suit with her. Just not yet. It wasn't the right time. Anything he said or did could just make her hostile to him and wouldn't further his cause with her.

No, he would just grit his teeth, grin and bear it when she smiled that dazzling smile at the blond Elf. In the meantime he needed to marshal his troops and see what he could find out about the newcomer.

* * *

The first thing that met Cirdan's eye was the orc dead heaped on the ground. He reined his mount in and stared around him in disbelief. There had to have been at least twenty five to thirty dead bodies. Most bore the usual wounds inflicted by sword, knife and axe, but a group of dead were almost cut in half and their injuries were unlike anything he had seen in his long existence. The feeling of concern reared itself up into a distinct worry. If these weapons were capable of such destruction then nobody in Middle-earth would stand a chance against them.

He heard Rion's sharp intake of breath behind him and turned. The Vanyarin elf was staring at the tree line with a shocked look on his face. Cirdan followed his gaze and saw a tall man and a small fair-haired woman standing quite closely together and talking with each other. Their garb was strange to say the least, being baggy and multi-coloured in shades ranging from black to pale green reminiscent of the dappling of sun through leaves. It didn't take much intelligence or knowledge to realise that the clothing was deliberately coloured that way to make them blend into the background, but it was not that which had drawn Rion's attention.

The man was tall; in fact he dwarfed the woman beside him. He was every bit as tall as an Elf, but with a broader build. He was wide shouldered with a broad muscular chest, which narrowed down to a slim waist, but it was his face and demeanour that drew Cirdan's attention. He had the golden glow of one of the Ainur and those deep blue eyes were ancient.

Apart from his physical appearance, this man was not human in any sense of the word. Cirdan realised that he had the same ambience and aura around him as the Maia Osse who he had interacted with before and knew, in that moment, that the mortal in charge of these strange people from another place was, in fact, one of the Maiar. The look on Noruthalion's face confirmed this. He didn't look quite as shocked as Rion, he was perhaps more puzzled than anything else.

Cirdan dismounted and assessed the situation in front of him.

Erestor was still kneeling beside the injured man but Melannen's attention had now been directed towards the new arrivals. Cirdan recognised a Vanyarin elf when he saw one and this one's colouring and facial features were so reminiscent of Ingwe that he knew for sure that this was one of his sons; the one who had been captured. Cirdan sent thanks to the Valar for his safe rescue and approached him.

Melannen registered that this was a Teleri Elf and the neatly trimmed silver facial hair declared him to be Nowe who was now named Cirdan, which meant Shipwright in the Sindarin tongue after the task appointed him to remain in Middle-earth and build the ships that would ferry the Eldar to Valinor. Melannen bowed deeply to Cirdan hand over heart in the way of the Elves.

"Greetings Lord. I am Melannen son of…." He got no further before being interrupted.

"Son of Ingwe." Cirdan said gruffly. He bowed in return. "Yes, I know who you are Lord Melannen, well met. I am Cirdan. Your brother is most anxious for your safe return." Melannen smiled and the sun came out. Cirdan nodded briefly and gestured at Kim and the others. "What of these? Have you travelled with them long?"

Melannen shook his head. "Not long my Lord. They rescued me from the Orcs who were trying to take me to their master Morgoth Baugir and for that I am greatly in their debt."

Cirdan gave him one of his rare smiles. "Just 'Cirdan' will do Lord Melannen, I do not stand on ceremony. I am only a humble shipwright."

Melannen quirked an eyebrow at him. "Yet your name is known across Aman. You are Lord of the Havens of the Falas also if I am not mistaken." He grinned and suddenly looked like an elfling. "And it is Melannen an it please you to call me that."

"Melannen." Cirdan inclined his head. "The lordship of the Havens is a small role, and one which has been thrust upon me rather than looked for. Tell me what you know of these mortals and also why they should have a Maia with them."

A slightly shocked look appeared in Melannen's eyes. "You recognise him for what he is?"

Cirdan nodded. "Yes indeed. He carries the Light of the Two Trees on his face and in his eyes and the music of the Ainur is deep within him. I remember how Ingwe and the others looked when they returned from visiting the Valar. The same light shone in their eyes, yet much muted when compared with the Maiar. Osse and Uinen both shine the same way."

"Of course." Melannen breathed. "Even here in the Hither Lands you have had many dealings with the Maiar of Lord Ulmo."

"Indeed I have. It was they who taught us much of the lore and music of the sea." Cirdan acknowledged with another small smile.

Melannen glanced over at Gary who was now bending over the Chief. He could see Rion and Noruthalion still astride their horses along with the other warriors; both of whom had their eyes fixed on Gary.

He bit his lip and took Cirdan by his arm. "Cirdan I must have words with you. I believe that the man the mortals call Ga-ree _is_ Eonwe, yet his memories seem impaired somehow. I have seen the Herald of Manwe many times and conversed with him in my father's house. I know Eonwe when I see him, yet he is with these people, he speaks their tongue and knows their weapons and does not appear to know me."

Now it was Cirdan's turn to look shocked. "Does he not understand the Elven tongue?"

Melannen shook his head. "Apart from a word or two he seems to know neither Quenya _or_ Sindarin and I do not know the language of the Valar. He looks at me sometimes as though he _does_ remember me and then his look changes and he seems to not know me at all. I cannot understand his presence here. Why is he here with the mortals and not leading the host? Has he handed over command to Lord Tulcas? All of these things are causing me great concern. I had hoped that with time he would remember but so far he has not." He huffed a deep sigh. "And then there is the matter of the woman, her name is Keem."

Cirdan looked over at the scruffy, dishevelled Kim in disbelief. Her eyes were red and swollen from vomiting, her hair hung in greasy tendrils around her face and her nose and cheeks were liberally smeared with black orc blood. She was hardly the epitome of Elven beauty and grace and hardly a sight to inspire a handsome Maia, one of the greatest of his kind, to fall at her feet. Instead she resembled a small and very grubby urchin.

"What of her?"

Melannen hesitated. He wasn't quite sure what to tell Cirdan about the Herald's partiality for the mortal woman or his jealousy of Melannen without sounding ridiculous. "I believe he has feelings for her." He said finally.

Cirdan frowned. "As in bonding feelings? Is she his chosen mate?"

Melannen turned a delicate shade of pink right up to the tips of his ears. "I do not believe that they have bonded with each other, but it is clear that he wishes to and he appears to resent the fact that she and I have struck up a friendship, as much as we can given the obvious language barrier."

"Bonding? A friendship?" Cirdan's silver brows reached his hairline. "You _have_ been busy. Do _you_ have feelings for her?"

Melannen's expression was priceless. "Indeed I have not." He said indignantly. "She is a mortal with the Gift of Men and not bound to Arda till the end of time as we are. Her lifespan is miniscule compared with that of the Eldar. To fall in love and bond with a mortal is to condemn oneself to grief and fading. We are merely friendly with each other and he does not like it at all."

Cirdan's lip twitched. "Peace Melannen. I was not making an accusation. I was just asking a question. However, if this Maiar _is_ Eonwe as you say, then one must beg the question of why he is choosing to fall in love with a mortal whose fea will eventually fly beyond the circles of the world. The Maiar are as bound to Arda as the Eldar. More importantly we need to address the issue of _why_ he is here and not with the main army." He looked over at Gary again and this time Gary looked back at him, his gaze steady and piercing. "This is a mystery to ponder and we may need to seek other counsel. Perhaps our two friends there can shed some light on Eonwe's behaviour and his presence here, but for now we have more pressing concerns and must take you all to Lord Gil-galad in haste. There are extra horses." He gestured to one of his warriors who dismounted and led four spare mounts over to him.

* * *

"Horses?" Kim's face blanched. "No. No horses." She took a couple of steps backwards and flapped her hands as if to emphasise the negative.

The Chief had been lifted in front of Erestor who had remounted and Jim was sitting one of the riderless horses with surprising ease. Gary decided that this young policeman was full of surprises. He himself had mounted another horse with a panache that spoke of excellence in horsemanship.

Neither Rion nor Noruthalion had attempted to speak to Gary yet and he had regarded them with little more than brief interest. With a combination of Sindarin words and sign language Cirdan, Melannen and Erestor managed to convey to Gary and the others that they would take them somewhere safe and where Chief could get some help. Had it just been Melannen or even Erestor Gary would have been unconvinced, but the older Elf had a very reassuring air about him.

The thing that finally persuaded him that they needed to go with these Elves rather than pursue Thadak and the weapons was the fact that the Chief looked as if he was fading fast. The blood loss had been much more considerable than they had thought at first and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Gary knew that if they didn't get some help he could well succumb.

Kim was another matter. No matter how persuasive Melannen or Jim tried to be, she obstinately refused to get on the horse that a young dark-haired elf was patiently holding for her. She had folded her arms and set her mouth in a stubborn line. Gary heaved a sigh and dismounted. He took her by her arm away from the others.

"For god's sake Sergeant, now what?" He couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice.

"I can't get on the horse." She said firmly.

Gary stared at her. "In the name of all that's holy, why the fuck not?"

"I just can't, that's all." She watched the scowl on his face deepen with some trepidation, but bravely stood her ground.

"Sergeant, I am going to give you an order and you _will _obey it. I am _not_ leaving you here and you are _not _walking while everyone else rides because it will slow us down. Chief Knowles needs help; _they_ probably have healers of some kind. I'm not going to let him bleed to death just because you're having a hissy fit over climbing on a horse." He stabbed his finger at the inoffensive animal. "Now get on the fucking horse…. oh for crying out loud Kim, don't bloody cry. Please."

The dam had burst and the flood of emotion produced from the past few days welled up and overflowed. She tried desperately to control the tears and the wobbling lip but it was no good. The sobs hiccuped out of her and Gary stood by helplessly in the manner of all males who simply don't understand why the bladders of the female gender are so close their eyeballs.

Melannen moved as if to intervene but Cirdan stopped him. "Let him handle it my friend."

"Kim." Gary's voice was gentle. "Why can't you get on the horse? Tell me. If you're afraid of horses it's okay. You can ride with me. I won't let you fall, I promise."

The gentle tone had the effect of calming her down much to Gary's relief. The sobs diminished to sniffles and Gary's mouth twitched with laughter when she wiped her face and nose on her already filthy sleeve.

"I'm not afraid of horses." She sniffed.

"Then what is it?" He persisted.

Her mood changed so abruptly that it made his head spin. "I'm bleeding okay? I'm in a mess because I have my period." She folded her arms and glared at him. "Satisfied? I'm a dumb girl and I have what all dumb girls have and I have no tampons or anything to stop the blood."

Gary blinked. "Oh Christ Kim, why on earth didn't you say something?"

"Because you all think I'm a dim-witted, stupid female and everyone knows that squaddies think female solders are a waste of space and menstruation is one good reason _why_ they think that." It all came out in one rushed breath.

"I've never said that you were dim-witted or stupid." The protest left Gary's mouth before he could stop it. "And you can't help being female. We could have come up with something." He finished lamely.

"And then everyone would have known that I had my period. It's a personal thing Mister Clever Major Matthews. I don't want everyone to know that it's my time of the month. It's humiliating."

Gary's mind turned to practical matters despite the desire to take her in his arms and comfort her like a lover would. _Keep focussed Gary_. He told himself. _You can't afford to let your emotions run wild._ "How bad is it?" He asked out loud.

"I'm in a terrible mess." She admitted. "Riding the horse would make it worse."

Gary thought for a moment then he walked over to Erestor's horse and gently touched the semi-conscious Chief. The Chief looked up through glazed eyes. "Chief I'm sorry, but I need to know if you have another field dressing about your person." Gary said softly.

The Chief managed a weak chuckle. "As it happens I do. It's in the inside pocket. I was hanging on to them for Kim. Is she okay?"

Gary reached up, felt in the pocket and pulled out the dressing. It was still wrapped in its protective packaging. "She's fine, just a bit upset with having to tell a strange nasty man that she has a personal problem. Try not to worry about her; I'll look after her. Just conserve your energy."

The Chief's head slumped back against Erestor's chest and the Elf's strong grip tightened around him in firm support.

Gary took the dressing over to Kim and handed it to her. "Will this do? The Chief had two field dressings in his pocket but we had to use one for his arm." He pointed to a thick clump of bushes in amongst the trees. "Go in there and sort yourself out. I'll stand guard."

She nodded and headed off in the direction of the bushes.

None of the mounted Elves had said anything during the whole minor fiasco. They showed no impatience with Kim, only sympathy, almost as if they completely understood her dilemma, although Gary was hard put to see how they _would _have understood.

A few minutes later a slightly relieved Kim emerged and Gary re-mounted his horse. He reached down and held his hand out for her. She looked hesitantly over at the Elf holding the other horse. Gary turned and smiled at the Elf and gestured that she would ride with him. The Elf inclined his head with a smile and led the spare horse back to where his own mount awaited him.

Kim sat within the comforting strength of Gary's arms and tried not to think about the fact that a gorgeous man was holding her or that she must be stinking to high heaven. All she knew was that for the first time in days, she felt safe.

* * *

"How can he be here before us? We left him with the host just few leagues from Lord Gil-galad's camp. " Rion whispered to Noruthalion who shrugged.

"I know not. He is a Maia; they are capable of many things that are beyond our comprehension. What concerns me more is the 'why' rather than the 'how'."

Rion frowned. "Perhaps he does not trust us to carry it out, but if that is the case why does he not acknowledge either of us?"

Noruthalion's light laughter rippled out of him. "There must be something amiss then since he would hardly ignore his young protégé!"

"I am not." Rion's face turned as red as fire. "Is that what people are saying? That he shows me special favour?"

Noruthalion chuckled. "Well does he not? He picked you out of an army of thousands to be his messenger." His expression became grave. "To be serious, I do not believe that this is the Eonwe that we know. I think this Maia is masquerading as Eonwe for some reason that we are not privy to."

Rion grew pale. "Then he must have been sent from the enemy. We should unmask him before he harms anyone."

"I sense no evil or shadow in him." Noruthalion said calmly. "I do not believe he is from the enemy and neither does Lord Cirdan and he is an ancient and wise Elf Lord. There has to be another reason for his presence and the masquerade. I think it will be better if we wait and see. Let us keep our own counsel, but be vigilant. If he means harm then he will give himself away soon enough."

Rion nodded. "Yes, you are right. Perhaps the situation will change once we get back to the host. This impostor will not wish to come face to face with the one he is impersonating."

* * *

(1) The bandage Chief Knowles was carrying was a field dressing, which consists of a gauze pad with a long gauze bandage attached to it. They are normally carried in the soldier's webbing and are used for immediate battlefield first aid, usually as pressure bandages. 


	21. I’ll take the high road

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to reviewers:** As always I appreciate your comments and your feedback. For me, as long as the story is being read, I am happy. I'm trying to write new chapters in-between doing the edits and re-writes my publisher requires on my original fiction novel, occasionally I get the characters mixed up which could make for an interesting combination!

I know that Jim is so far unexplored, but I wanted to establish the rapport firstly between the military members of the group, then Gary and Kim, who decided to develop their romance without permission from me and then with the group as a whole. As Olorin's role in the story develops, so Jim's will develop alongside it and he'll have more of an input into the story – and now I might have given too much away so I will say no more on the subject!

It was also important to the thrust of the story that Melannen should become a sort of bridge between the modern mortals and the ancient people of Middle-earth, just as Rion and Noruthalion are a bridge between the Elves of Valinor and the Elves of Middle-earth. Gil-galad, Celeborn and the others are the anchor between both groups, a bit like 'piggy in the middle'. They are the central point from which the others radiate and they provide the solid middle ground, so to speak. As such, they are crucial to the tale.

**Chapter 21 – I'll take the high road, you take the low road**

"Aim towards the enemy."  
- **Instruction printed on Army rocket launcher**

"The Nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars  
and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards  
and its fighting done by fools."  
- **Thucydides**

"The creature stopped here and rested." The Elf pointed at a seemingly undisturbed part of the ground in the shelter of a large tree. "See, this is where he put his burden down whilst he sat."

Celeborn dismounted and examined the patch of earth. He nodded at the Elf. "Yes, but he took no food. Orcs are not the tidiest of eaters, they 'ere leave their debris where it falls."

"Perhaps he has none." The Elf suggested. "Everything we have noted of his passage so far has indicated extreme haste. He may not have taken the time to hunt. Even if he could have found something to hunt."

Celeborn stood up and glanced around him. He closed his eyes and summoned every part of his innate ability to communicate with the trees. At first there was nothing but a distressed buzzing and rustling, but after a short while he could separate the sounds.

The trees were both angry and distressed at the mere presence of the orc in the woods, but they also spoke to Celeborn of a small battle among the willows of Nan Tathren just a short while ago. Celeborn's eyes snapped open and the silver of his eyes slowly turned a less molten hue.

"I believe that Cirdan and the others have been involved in a small sortie." He said quietly and remounted.

"Do we go to aid them my Lord?" The Elf asked.

Celeborn shook his head. "The trees do not speak of deaths, at least not Elven deaths. They tell me that the wind has brought them knowledge of a small battle and many Orc dead." He smiled grimly. "If the sortie is won then we will add nothing productive to it and our quarry will only get further away from us. If Cirdan has been successful in locating the mortals he will take them to the High King. On the other hand we need to know what road our large friend has taken with his heavy burden. Perhaps we should see if he needs a hand with it."

Light laughter rippled amongst the warriors.

"We could relieve him of the burden." One of them suggested.

Celeborn grinned; the light of the chase was now in his eyes. "My thoughts precisely. In the meantime, the trees tell me that he headed northwards, but they also tell me of many loose groups of Orcs roaming around further north. It is likely that they are the remains of those battle groups that Eonwe and the host have already routed. It seems that the Herald of Manwe has been tardy about sweeping up after himself. However, from these signs it does not seem as though our Orc has met up with friends yet. Let us try to stop him before he does." He lightly pressed his heels to his horse's flanks and the animal leapt forward with enthusiasm followed only an instant later by his warriors.

The hunt was on!

Celeborn knew that their job of locating the Orc carrying the mortals' weapons would be a lot harder if he managed to hook up with any of those loose groups. On the other hand, it was also possible that he may deliberately avoid them and in doing so, avoid having to explain why he was carrying his burden. Loose groups of Morgoth's creatures tended to forget their allegiance once out of eyeshot of their masters and behaved accordingly. The only reason the Orc they were tracking would have for the extreme loyalty he had shown so far was the fact that he had obviously been promised a large reward. That, or he was at least intelligent enough to know that he could perhaps advance himself by taking the weapons directly to Thangorodrim.

Gil-galad's orders had been clear. He was to track the Orc as far as he could and obtain the weapons if possible, yet the young King had shown great foresight in surmising that their quarry may meet up with others of his kind and that they may present too great a challenge for a small group of Elven scouts to rout. In that scenario his orders were equally clear. Celeborn was to waste none of the warriors; they were to ride back in all haste to the main body, which would then advance forward and deal with them.

As ever he kept his thoughts calm and was alert for any further messages from his lady. He had not heard from her for some hours now and tried to stem the tide of concern that he felt at their separation in such dangerous times. He knew she was alive because their bond was un-severed, but that didn't stop him worrying.

* * *

**The tent of Eonwe, the Forest of Brethil, Beleriand, First Age**

"Put him _down_ child."

Through the red haze that filmed his eyes Eonwe became aware of the gentle, but commanding voice of Tulcas. In an instant the veil cleared and his horrified gaze met the anguished expression in the eyes of the Elf that he currently had by the throat. The Herald stopped in mid-shake, just as the Elf was beginning to turn a particularly pretty shade of purple.

The shock of his actions resonated through him. He let go of the death grip he had around the warrior's throat and backed away. The Elf would have fallen to the ground had it not been for Tulcas catching him. The Vala gently lifted him onto Eonwe's cot and ran an exploratory hand over his form, but he had at least now returned to a somewhat more normal colour.

"Is he all right?" Eonwe's question came out in an agonised whisper. He felt as though someone had doused him in ice-cold water. Never before had he attacked anyone that was not an enemy and it had shocked him to his very core.

The silence that met his question was dreadful and Eonwe felt his stomach tighten, but finally Tulcas turned around with a smile on his face. "Some bruises and a lot of shock, but he will live to tell the tale of when the Herald of Manwe tried to throttle him for asking whether he required his meal now or later."

He winked at Eonwe who sank down onto a chair with relief and buried his head in his hands. "Oh Eru be thanked."

"I will fetch a healer." Tulcas left the tent and the Elf on the cot struggled up to a sitting position.

"There is no need, really. I am fine." He insisted.

"You should lie still until the healer has seen you." Eonwe got up and approached him with a view to gently pushing him back down. The young Elf blanched and sank back down with such a look of abject fear in his eyes that it made the Herald stop in his tracks. It suddenly occurred to Eonwe that the young warrior was afraid of him and it only added to his shame and mortification.

"I will not harm you little one." He said softly moving back to the chair and removing the threat.

A look of doubt had appeared on the warrior's face. "No my Lord. Of course not" But his tone was unconvinced as he gingerly fingered his throat and kept a wary eye on Eonwe's powerful hands.

_What have I done?_ Eonwe gave an inward cry of remorse. _What is happening to me?_

He looked up as Tulcas reappeared with one of the healers who took in the tableau with a practised glance. The healer immediately went over to the cot and examined the injured warrior.

Tulcas hunkered down beside the distraught Herald's chair. His voice was filled with pity. "What happened child? It was as if you could not hear me, as if you were seeing or experiencing something completely different to the rest of us."

Eonwe dashed the tear that had begun to squeeze itself out of the corner of his eye away with the back of his hand and when he spoke his voice was choked with misery. "I was there." He whispered. "I was there among the willows with the mortal who looks like me, battling a group of Orcs." He stopped, shook his head and looked up at Tulcas with such anguish in his eyes that the Vala's heart constricted with pity. "No, that is not exactly right. I was not _with_ him. I _was_ him. He and I were one and the same."

The healer stood up and cleared his throat and both Vala and Maia turned to look at him. He gestured at his patient. "Bruises and shock, nothing more, however I will take him into the healer's tents and give him something to calm him. He will rest there overnight and return to his unit tomorrow." He glanced over at Eonwe. "He says you tried to strangle him my Lord." There was a note of distinct coolness in his tone.

Eonwe nodded but met the healer's accusing gaze directly. "Yes, I did, but not deliberately, I assure you."

The healer stared at him intently for a second, but then, as if satisfied by what he read in Eonwe's demeanour, he nodded. "Do I have your permission to take him my Lord?"

Eonwe nodded wearily and stood up. As the young warrior passed he reached out and touched his shoulder. "Forgive me little one. I was not myself."

This time, the warrior didn't flinch or draw back instead he gave the Herald a smile that warmed him a little. "I know my Lord, I can see that now. Please do not concern yourself about me unduly." His voice was hoarse from the bruising on his throat.

Eonwe gave him a grateful smile. "I will come and see you later if you will permit."

The warrior nodded. "Your visit will be welcome Lord." He inclined his head and followed the healer out.

"Do not concern myself?" Eonwe sank back down in the chair in misery. "How can I _not _concern myself? I cannot be trusted." He looked up at Tulcas. "_You_ will have to lead them. If I cannot trust myself not to react when these visions or whatever they are assail me, then I am not fit to lead an army."

Tulcas sat down in the other chair and took Eonwe's cold hands in his own. "You said that you _were_ him." He said gently. "Could you feel his thoughts as though they were separate to your own?"

Eonwe cast his mind back, but everything he remembered about the incident seemed jumbled and confused. "I am not sure." He said slowly. "But I do not think they were separate. He…I… was distracted by fear for the woman who had fallen and the blow given to the Orc who was attacking was considerably deflected by the momentary lack of concentration. The creature saw his chance and thrust his sword. I was angry. The mortal…ah…I were both enraged and we grabbed the creature by the throat and shook him, then I thrust the sword into his belly. I do not remember aught else until I heard your voice telling me to put my orderly down."

Tulcas nodded. "I thought as much, and what you have told me makes sense. I need to go and speak to Lord Manwe."

"Makes sense?" Eonwe's tone was filled with bitterness. "I wish it made sense to me. All I feel is an overwhelming sense of impending doom." He jumped up and started to pace around the tent. "Why is he here and why am I feeling and experiencing what he is feeling and experiencing? Who _is_ he?"

Tulcas wisely remained quiet in the face of this fraught questioning, but this was a disturbing development that he needed to discuss with Manwe. He knew that Manwe had preferred the Herald to remain in ignorance about the mortal Gary Matthews until that situation was resolved if possible, but now Tulcas knew that it was becoming imperative that he was told the full story. It was no longer possible for him to function as a leader of the host whilst in a state of ignorance. At least if he was fully apprised of the situation they could make contingency plans.

* * *

**Camp of Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in exile, north of Nargothrond**

Ereinion Gil-galad read Eonwe's missive for the umpteenth time and gnawed at his bottom lip in concern. There were parts of the letter that he had not shared with anyone, simply because Eonwe had stressed they were for his eyes only, namely the knowledge that one of the mortals wore the face of Eonwe, but his true nature and reason for being here were, as yet, unknown.

Cirdan had sent a scout ahead to forewarn the main battle group that they had not only found the mortals and were bringing them in, but also Lord Melannen, the missing son of Ingwe. In addition one of the mortals was badly injured and would need immediate attention. Never one for anything but blunt words, the Shipwright had also warned Gil-galad that one of the mortals was not human, but a Maia.

There was nothing wrong with Gil-galad's powers of reasoning and deduction and it was a tiny step to realise that the 'mortal with my face' and the 'mortal who looked like a Maia' were one and the same. He cursed himself for allowing Rion and Noruthalion, who would have recognised 'Eonwe' immediately, to go along with Cirdan's party. It was just that, at the time, he could not think of a viable or pressing reason for keeping them with him when Cirdan suggested that they should accompany him without giving away the information he had been asked not to speak of. This decision had complicated matters greatly.

There were going to be questions, and many of them, when they all arrived back at the main camp.

He expelled a huge sigh and re-folded the letter, placing it in its hiding place inside his tunic, then he got up and started to make his rounds of the camp. All the warriors he passed called out friendly greetings to their King and he answered them with sparkling eyes and friendly quips that belied the level of heavy anxiety that had settled around his heart.

* * *

Glorfindel watched his King with narrowed eyes filled with concern. This was just _one _of the many times he had caught Gil-galad reading and re-reading the letter from Eonwe. Each time he read it through, he would carefully re-fold it with a worried furrow between his brows and pursed lips. Then he would place it carefully inside his tunic and pace restlessly around the camp, ostensibly checking on the watches and stopping to speak to each and every warrior under his command. 

Not that this wasn't appreciated by his warriors by any means, but it was fast becoming readily noticeable to everyone that he was very worried about something.

And that something definitely had to do with this task they had been set by the Herald. Glorfindel firmly resolved to get the King to talk to him about it. A trouble shared was a trouble halved when all was said and done.

* * *

It took no effort for the non-corporeal Olorin to follow Cirdan and his group as they rode back to Ereinion Gil-galad's main camp.

Eonwe carried the young woman who Olorin now knew was called Keem in front of him. She sat wrapped securely in his strong arms and even dozed contentedly against his chest. Olorin repressed a chuckle. Eonwe in no matter what form rode disgustingly superbly, just as he did _everything_, but he was seeing a side of the Herald so far firmly suppressed, especially since the disastrous attempt at a bonding with Arien the sun maiden.

It had been clear to all the other Maia that Eonwe had been deeply hurt by her rejection and subsequent flirtation with Tilion, but he had asked for no comfort from anyone, not even Manwe himself. The ever sensitive Olorin's heart had bled for the Herald as he stiffened his upper lip and viewed everything to do with his former love with pain-filled disdain, his only armour against the misery and hurt that he held within. Olorin would have readily comforted him had he but asked, but Eonwe kept everyone, including Ilmare who was as a sister to him, firmly at arm's length.

The future Eonwe had obviously been imbued with a strong sense of humanity and all of its quirks, including the ability to fall in love, and a part of Olorin's curious nature and thirst for knowledge about the corporeal Elves and Men was heightened by the fact that this version of Eonwe could tell him much about the future. This Eonwe was obviously not averse to falling in love and showed a confidence with the female sex that was not present in the old Eonwe.

_Concentrate on the present Olorin._ Lady Varda's amused voice tinkled through his consciousness. _It is, after all, what you are there for. I see your plan and approve, but you will need to make your move soon, preferably before you reach the camp of Ereinion Gil-galad. You have chosen well my friend and all my blessings go with you_.

Olorin humbly acquiesced and turned his attention to the man who the mortals called 'Sheef', now slumped bonelessly in Erestor's grip. His face was a deathly grey and he had long since given in to deep unconsciousness. The man Zhim rode beside Erestor and cast anxious glances at Sheef from time to time. He was obviously very concerned about his friend.

It was plain to see that Sheef was sinking fast from extreme blood loss and would not make it alive to where the healers awaited for him. His spirit already hovered anxiously around him in the form of a distressed deep orange aura. Olorin glanced quickly between Zhim and the injured man and made his decision. He did not have the ability to heal a mortally injured human outright, but he _could_ lend his considerable Maia spirit and strength to sustain him until he could receive treatment for his injuries.

With no more than a whisper of movement, the Maia Olorin conveyed himself to the Chief. The calm, but powerful, blue of the Maia spirit met the distressed orange of the mortal and for a moment it was as if they stood face to face in corporeal form. The Chief cocked his head on one side in enquiry and the Maia indicated his desire. A ghost of a smile crossed the mortal's face and he bent his head in assent.

In the blink of a eye, the wounded fea of the Chief had been taken into the care of the Doomsman of the Valar who had, albeit reluctantly, agreed to this interchange at the request of Varda Elentari on the strict condition that it was to be restored to the mortal once he had been returned to his own time. Olorin would also be allowed access to the mortal's memories and experiences for that time so that he could function normally.

He settled himself within the Chief's unconscious form and began to impose his own strength of will and spirit on the grievous wounds.

* * *


	22. To sleep, perchance to dream

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2

Thank you to all reviewers. The game is afoot and the plot thickens!

**Chapter 22 – To sleep, perchance to dream**

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we  
don't know how to replenish its source.  
it dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.  
It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness,  
of withering, of tarnishing." – **Anais Nin**

**The Forest of Dean, England, present day.**

"This is _extraordinary._ It's utterly extraordinary. An inter-spatial rift and it's as clear as day. I never thought I would see the day when I would be a witness to something like this." Excitement suffused the voice of Dr Norman, the scientist called in by the Ministry of Defence to investigate the 'Forest of Dean Phenomena' as the Whitehall boffins had started to call it.

He paced up and down in a clearing in the Forest of Dean, stopping every now and again to take some further readings with a device reminiscent of the tricorders from Star Trek. When he stood up he would push his glasses back up his nose, tuck his floppy brown hair behind one ear and study the results in the tiny view screen. His three assistants were scurrying about doing likewise.

Inspector Alun Davis of the Lydney police stood with the General and his Aide de Camp and watched with amusement. He got the distinct impression that the young scientist was on the point of chortling like a gleeful schoolboy over his findings.

"_What_?" The General turned to his Aide, his voice filled with sharp irritation. "What's he saying?"

The Aide, a Captain from the General's home regiment the Enniskillens, pursed his lips. "He says it's extraordinary sir." He drawled in that supercilious way only scions of the upper class houses of Britain can manage with ease. His nostrils flared with distaste as though consorting with ordinary humans was just far too much for his delicate constitution to tolerate.

The General's grey brows drew together. "_Extraordinary_?" He asked incredulously. He strode over to where the scientist had been stooping just a couple of minutes earlier and peered at the bushes and trees and eventually he took a step back. "They just look like bushes and trees to me; nothing extraordinary about them. Bloody boffins, they're all alike. There's nothing here. It's a complete waste of time if you ask me." He whistled at Mugger who was exploring a particularly tantalising rabbit hole. "Come on boy, what _are_ you pulling at you silly bloody animal?"

Mugger's teeth had latched firmly onto something and he was busy worrying it out of the hole, so the General bent down and swatted him away. "It'll be some damned picnicker's rubbish Mugs, dirty and nasty, not for little midgets like you." Then he frowned and bent closer.

The dog's persistent digging had revealed something wrapped in green plastic which he had half dragged out of the rabbit hole. The General gingerly lifted it out, but as he did so, the damp plastic tore and something rolled out of the bag at his feet. He bent down and found himself staring into the eyeless sockets and deteriorated face of the unfortunate WO2 Irwin.

The General stood up and took out a handkerchief. He carefully wiped his fingers and then snapped the lead onto Mugger's collar. "Sorry old chap." He said softly. "Can't let you have that." Anyone standing close would have seen the tears and regret that momentarily filled the old man's eyes, but when he finally turned to where Alun Davis and his Aide were standing, there was no sign that the tears had ever been there. He pointed at the object on the ground. "Mugger and I seem to have located WO2 Irwin's head Inspector." He said gruffly.

Davis indicated to one of the policemen who went over with gloves and another baggie to retrieve the missing head. "Well that's one mystery solved." He sighed.

While this was going on the scientists had completed their readings and investigation. As Dr Norman approached the General and his retinue, he found himself facing a stern, uncompromising audience. He cleared his throat nervously and the glasses slid further down the bridge of his nose. Inspector Davis swallowed back a laugh as he saw the General's sharp eyes rivet onto the offending glasses.

"Well?" The General barked. "What have you found? Out with it man."

Norman's earnest blue eyes filled with terror and his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. He cleared his throat again and the glasses slid down to the end of his nose where they balanced precariously on the tip and threatened to fall off, but he seemed too terrified to do anything about it. The General pursed his lips, bent forward and, ever so gently, pushed the glasses back up the young man's nose. One of the younger officers, a Second Lieutenant who had accompanied the General tittered nervously and was rewarded with an icy, paralysing glare as his boss's head turned as swift as a striking snake to look at him. He stopped in mid-titter.

Norman gave Davis an agonised glance, and in spite of the amusement value the whole thing was affording him, the policeman decided to put the poor lad out of his misery.

"What have you got for us Doctor?" He asked kindly and the scientist seemed to melt with relief.

"It's something that we know might happen in theory, but up until now it's only been something that Science Fiction writers have used. It's called an 'inter-spatial rift' or an inter-dimensional portal or gateway." He beamed brightly at the General and his officers and was met with blank expressions all round. His newfound confidence wavered and so did his voice. "An opening between dimensions?" He managed to stutter out before lapsing into an uncomfortable silence.

"Are you _asking_ me or telling me?" The General asked testily. "What _are _you drivelling on about man? Science fiction, dimensions? Sounds like a load of absolute poppycock to me."

In the face of such utter, blinkered disbelief and open scepticism, the scientist bravely found his voice. "Er…no. It's definitely not poppycock General. As a matter of fact there's a lot about the world and universe around us that we don't know and whilst the idea of an inter-spatial rift seems very far-fetched, the science surrounding the theory is very sound. If you think of time existing in lines rather than something past, present or future and each time line co-existing with the last in succession within its own boundaries, we have something that looks a little like a layer cake and then you should have a general idea of what I'm talking about."

He stopped his rambling lecture and stared hopefully at his audience, whose expressions now ranged from utter disbelief, through utter contempt and back to blank, this being the expression of the young Lieutenant who had giggled earlier. He desperately turned to the only friendly face in the bunch and Alun Davis smiled encouragingly at him.

"Well, anyway. The theory goes that sometimes certain cataclysmic events in any one of the timelines can cause it to accidentally 'bump', for want of a better word, into the next one and then the boundaries meet and push against each other causing a weak point." He pushed his glasses back up his nose and took heart from the fact that nobody had, as yet, tried to shoot him down in flames again.

The General stared thoughtfully at the young scientist. "I see. At least… I _think_ I see. So if each time dimension co-exists with the last, then what you're telling me is that somehow Major Matthews, Sergeant Freeman, Mr Knowles and Constable Moore have encountered this weakness and ended up in another time dimension?"

Norman's head bobbed up and down furiously. "Exactly."

"_Which _time dimension?"

"I'm sorry?" The scientist looked confused.

"Which time dimension have they crossed into?" The General asked patiently. "Past or future?"

"Ah…I…er…don't know which one." The scientist admitted. "There's no way of telling. They could have landed in the far distant future or the far distant past, but my gut feelings are that they have gone into the past. How long past is debatable, but judging by the weapon left behind by the murderers, I would say some time equivalent to the Iron Age."

The General's brow lifted. "Are you saying that the bastards who murdered my soldiers came from the past and have somehow taken Major Matthews and the others back with them?"

Norman again. "Yes, but not necessarily _taken_ Major Matthews and his group. _They _may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and suddenly found themselves somewhere totally different. It might even have looked similar at first because it's likely that they would arrive at the same spot, just perhaps many thousands of years earlier. Of course the continents of the earth have altered considerably down through the millennia and so has the vegetation, so they could be wandering around totally lost."

The General's austere face blanched. "Dear God, what a dreadful thing to face. My next question is of course…"

"How do we get them back?" The scientist interrupted.

The General nodded and waited expectantly. So did everyone else.

"There is no way we can physically get them back without duplicating the events that led up to the first incursion which would hopefully open the rift again on both sides. And it's highly doubtful we could do it. Even supposing we could, then we wouldn't necessarily step into the same part of the dimension that they did, however they could come back of their own accord and they _would_ step into the correct dimension, i.e. ours, because the rift is actually stable on this side."

The General impaled him on a piercing glare. "You seem to be inferring that the rift thing is still there."

Dr Roger Norman smiled for the first time since launching into his explanation. He beckoned to the General who gave Mugger's lead to his aide and followed him over to a line of trees, interspersed with thorny thickets. Just behind the trees the General could clearly see a wide chasm splitting the ground. The scientist pointed over the chasm at the forest beyond and the General followed his finger, but after studying the area for a few seconds his expression became puzzled.

"What am I looking at?" He asked in bewilderment.

"You're looking into the other time dimension General." Norman said softly. "Let me show you." He lifted the General's hand and gently thrust it forwards. A gasp of astonishment rose from behind them as everyone watched the hand disappear almost to the forearm. The General suddenly gasped with pain; his face went deathly pale and the scientist pulled his arm back quickly. As he did so the General's skin prickled and stung where it had met the rift.

"Surely if I can put _my_ arm through, then we could send someone through?" He asked.

"Not unless you want to lose them permanently." The scientist replied. "The rift is still there to all intents and purposes, but now it's a one way street. It begins here, but it's like a tunnel that crosses over the chasm and into the next dimension and it's getting narrower as time goes on. You felt the pain level rise as your arm penetrated the rift and if you had tried to push through regardless, the resulting pressure would have eventually crushed the bones. Whoever is on the other side can come this way for the time being, but we can't follow them through to where they are."

The General continued to stare over at the other dimension and the more he looked, the more he became aware of a slight haziness that formed a roughly man-sized circle through which he could clearly see the other side. His sharp glance went from the trees he could see within the circle and the trees on either side of it.

"The trees are different inside that circle thing." He said softly.

The scientist beamed and pushed his glasses up his nose again. "Ah yes, I was wondering when you'd notice that. Yes, the trees in the middle of the rift are willows, which are not grown in the Forest of Dean, at least not in _this_ part of the forest, and the others are oak and beech, which _do_ habitually grow here."

The General turned to him. "And you say that something can come through but we can't go the other way?"

The scientist nodded.

"How do you know that?"

"When we first came here at the request of the Ministry of Defence and Forestry Commission this morning, we set up a camp in order to examine and film the area thoroughly. Within the first hour we counted a myriad of small and larger animals coming through the rift to this side unharmed, but when a rabbit went through from our side it staggered back out and keeled over stone dead. We examined it and got a local lab to do a post mortem and the findings show that almost every bone in its body had been crushed. How it managed to come back in that state is anyone's guess. I can show you the footage if you like." He decided not to mention that it had seemed to him and his colleagues that the animals were seeking sanctuary from something. Someone like the General would think _that_ was far too fanciful a notion.

"That won't be necessary." The General smiled grimly and turned to Alun Davis who was standing quietly to one side. "We need to seal off the area immediately and set up a twenty-four hour manned guard post, combined police and military. I don't want anything else coming through. Anything human or vaguely human that is. We also need to examine the small animals that are coming through to make sure they're not bringing anything potentially damaging to our ecology with them. _All _civilians are to be kept strictly away from the scene." He glanced from Davis to his aide who nodded, opened up his mobile phone and hurriedly started to make a phone call back to Divisional HQ.

Alun Davis nodded and trudged back to the police car where his assistant, Detective Sergeant Tucker waited for him.

"Liase with the Captain over there to seal off the area stipulated by Dr Norman. No civilians are to be allowed through. Also notify the Forestry Commission and the Forest of Dean authorities of what we are doing so that they can post notices making this part of the forest off limits until further notice. We'll supply a couple or three of shifts of policemen; the military will supply the rest. And Tucker…?" The Detective Sergeant raised an eyebrow in query. "They need to be armed."

Tucker nodded and started to talk into his radio.

Within the hour, the Forest of Dean was swarming with armed police officers and soldiers and a crop of tents had mushroomed up around the area. Dr Norman and his team had been instructed to try and find a way that they could perhaps send some sort of probe through the rift with a view to locating Major Matthews and his team, providing that they were in the immediate area of the rift.

An uneasy calm settled over the Forest of Dean and nothing moved within the sealed off area apart from the quiet and orderly changing of the guard shifts and a steady stream of small animals from another age who came through the rift seeking sanctuary and shelter. They were now being captured unharmed as they arrived and taken to a local veterinary facility for examination and treatment if necessary.

* * *

**Camp of the Host, the Forest of Brethil, Beleriand, First Age**

"He is me." Eonwe's voice was little more than an awed whisper. He looked up at Tulcas who was hovering over him, eyes filled with concern. "Does he know?"

Tulcas shook his head. "No. He knows nothing of his past. In order to carry out the command of Eru, his memories were removed and his form made flesh. He…you… cannot shed it, and he will remain that way until his task is complete."

"And what is this task?" Eonwe queried.

Again Tulcas shook his head. "I cannot tell you that. All I can tell you is that at some future time Eru will request that a representative from Aman be sent back to Middle-earth and you will be that person. I do not even know whether you volunteered for it, or whether you were simply commanded by Manwe. Only some things have been revealed by Eru.

"The people with me, do they have some necessary input into this task?"

Tulcas grinned. "They are soldiers under your command, if I understand their purpose correctly."

A swift smile lightened Eonwe's face like a stray ray of sunlight. "I am a soldier then. At least I am doing something I know about in this future Middle-earth." His brows drew together in a slight frown. "What about the woman?"

Eonwe's orderly came in with a tray of food, which he set down on the table and began to uncover the dishes. After he had completed his task, he bowed to both the Herald and the Vala and left as silently as he had entered. Eonwe bent over the dishes and sniffed. "It all smells very nice. What is it in aid of?"

Tulcas settled his large frame into a chair and regarded Eonwe with amusement. "It seems Lady Varda was concerned that you weren't eating properly and decided that you need feeding up." He waved a large hand at the groaning table. "This is the result."

A myriad of expressions crossed Eonwe's handsome face, not least of them bewilderment. "She expects me to eat all of this? Can I not do _anything_ without someone knowing?" He stood up abruptly. "When this body needs relieving of waste products, do they watch to make sure I am doing it correctly and regularly?"

Tulcas registered the frustration and agitation in the Herald's voice. "Peace child. They are only concerned. Manwe and Varda consider both you and Ilmare as their children and they love you dearly. They would never intrude into any personal areas of your life without speaking to you first." He said in a pacifying tone. "Come, sit back down and we will both eat." He selected a plate and started to put things on it. Eonwe sighed deeply and slumped back down in his seat.

"I know they worry about me, but there is no need. Truly. I have just had a great deal on my mind the last few days. Eating seemed of minor importance in comparison with everything that has been happening." He accepted a heaped plate from Tulcas along with a fork and stared at it in bemusement. "Am I to eat this or climb it?"

Tulcas gave a shout of laughter and outside the tent an irritatedhealer dropped a full bag of newly cleansed instruments in the dirt as a result. "Just stop whingeing Eonwe and eat your food."

There was silence for a few moments as Eonwe manfully tackled the mountain of food, and once he started eating, he discovered that he was indeed quite hungry. Tulcas sat back and watched with satisfaction as half the plate was cleared. He himself had absolutely no trouble downing a trough of food in the shortest time possible.

"You are not going to get out of answering my question by filling me with dinner." Eonwe said with a grin. "Tell me of the woman who accompanies me…er…him."

Tulcas sighed. "She is also a soldier under your command." He replied guardedly. Manwe had not forbidden him to speak about the woman called Kim and the budding romance between her and Eonwe's future self, but he felt a sudden reluctance to give Eonwe anything else to worry or think about.

Eonwe's eyebrows climbed up to his hairline. "A female warrior?" He murmured. "Surely the men of the future will not make their women fight?"

"As I understand it, the army is made up out of professional soldiers who volunteer themselves and are paid for the privilege. It is called a standing army, not raked up from everywhere. The woman is as much a warrior and can be called to fight the same as the men." Tulcas said mildly. He speared a particularly luscious, rich looking piece of cheese and broke open a soft bread roll to eat with it.

"Are they lovers?"

Tulcas choked on a massive bite of bread and cheese and Eonwe sat patiently while the Vala composed himself after the coughing fit. A slight smile tugged at the Herald's mouth.

"What in the world possessed you to ask that?" Tulcas finally managed to stutter out.

Eonwe shrugged and grinned smugly. "I know you quite well by now and I sensed you were hiding something from me regarding the woman. Since you have admitted that she is a soldier under my…his…command that can only leave something private between them. What else can it be but of a personal nature, like a desire to bond with each other or perhaps the fact that they already have?"

"Eru's blood." Tulcas shook his head in despair. "You are far too perceptive for your own good. They are not bonded, but he…you…wishes it." He groaned. "You have _me _confused now. There are complications and I did not want you to worry about them."

Eonwe leaned over with a wicked gleam in his eye. "What manner of complications?"

A distinctly uncomfortable expression crossed over the Vala's face and he shifted in his chair. "Just…complications. She likes you, or rather him, but considers him to be out of her reach. Instead she has concentrated her attention on Melannen."

Eonwe realised that his mouth had dropped open and he shut it with a snap. "Melannen?" His voice had risen a couple of octaves in shock. "_Ingwe's _Melannen?"

"I know of no other. Very few Elves are called by another's name, it is not customary among them. And as a High King's son, Melannen is quite a catch." Tulcas gaily added fuel to the fire.

"She likes Melannen?" Eonwe repeated dumbly. "If anything he is more out of reach than I am. Elves and mortals do not bond."

Tulcas chuckled. "So what were Beren and Luthien? Valinorean Mist?"

"Well there _is_ them of course, but it is not usual."

"Neither is a human and Maia bonding but your future self seems to be seriously considering it." Tulcas replied calmly.

"How can she choose Melannen over me…er…him? Could we please just decide that he is a separate entity while we are discussing him? I am losing track of who is who." Eonwe asked crossly.

Tulcas clapped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Of course we can." He drew up a chair and gazed into Eonwe's dark blue eyes. "You have seen her, have you not? So tell me what she looks like."

Eonwe cast his mind back to the night he and Curunir sneaked up on the mortals. "To be truthful, I couldn't see much of her, what with the bulky clothing and all the dirt. She was of slight build with light coloured hair, possibly light golden, but it was difficult to see under the dirt and grease." His nostrils wrinkled. "She needed a good scrubbing, like all of the Edain I have met so far seem to."

"Did you feel nothing when you looked at her?" Asked Tulcas curiously.

Eonwe shrugged. "Not at that time, but later…"

His voice trailed off and he dropped his gaze, but Tulcas picked up on it immediately. "Later?" He prompted. "What about later?"

"When we…he was fighting, he heard the woman cry out and turned to see. When she fell, such a pain stabbed through him that it caused his attention to wander and…well I explained about that earlier." Eonwe looked down at his lap. "He loves her. He thought she had been killed and a part of him died at the thought of losing her. It was just like…"

"Just like when you lost Arien?"

"I will not speak of that." Eonwe flared. "I cannot speak of it. Not yet."

Tulcas stared at him in pity. "Eonwe, it has been thousands of years, when _will_ you be able to talk about it? Keeping it bottled up inside cannot be helping. You need to get on with your life and stop grieving over her."

"Well my future self certainly seems to have got on with our life." Sarcasm dripped from Eonwe's every word. "Since he is happily contemplating bonding with a mortal woman. So you see. I obviously _will _get over it eventually and then you can all stop fretting." He stood up and paced around the tent. "How can a future version of me exist in the same time as I do?"

"You can't." Tulcas said candidly. "Only one of you can continue in this time. Eventually, as the distance closes between you one of you will gradually cease to exist."

Eonwe stopped pacing and looked intently at him. "Him or me?"

"Him."

Eonwe sank back down into his chair and leaned forward. "And what of those with him. Will they, will she, remember him and grieve? If they bond then..." He left the awful thought unspoken.

"Will she die from grief?" Tulcas finished the question and then shook his head. "That is not the mortal way. They do not bind themselves to each other in the same way we do, since they do not have eternity. Everything is passionate and short-lived and then they pass beyond the circles of the world. She will not forget, but she will not fade."

"What will happen to the task he has been given?"

Tulcas shrugged. "I do not know, but I do know that it was an important one. Eru will just have to begin it all over again."

A few hours later, when the Vala had gone, Eonwe lay on his cot and tried to rest, but thoughts of his future self, the woman and some unnamed task kept flitting through his mind. He wasn't even aware that his eyelids had fluttered shut and he was no longer awake, but instead wandering through dreams.

It seemed to him that he was in a strange place of hard shiny white surfaces and dimmed lights. Light clatters of sound drifted in and out of his ears accompanied by the muted murmur of voices. He walked along a wide corridor and turned into a small room in which there was only one bed with white pillows and a pale green coverlet. One single small cupboard stood by the bed with a jug of water and a glass on it. He stared around the room with interest. It was pristinely clean and he could smell a strange sharp odour, not unpleasant, but not pretty either.

After a few moments he became aware that he was not alone in the room.A woman was standing by the bed smiling hesitantly at him. He smiled back reassuringly. She wasn't beautiful by any means, but there was a vulnerability about her that made him want to fiercely protect her. He got the impression of a small, slim woman with shoulder length light blonde hairand brown eyes far too large for her small face. Livid bruising marked the smooth pale cheek and he impulsively reached out to gently touch it with his finger.

A small smile lit up her face and she went to catch his finger before it touched her cheek. As her slim fingers curled around his Eonwe felt a shockwave of emotion roil through him. He made as if to grip her hand and pull her to him in an embrace but in an instance she dissipated like smoke in his grasp.

He sat bolt upright on his cot, hand still outstretched to touch her, but instead he was all alone, totally bewildered and utterly bereft.

* * *


	23. Soft words and hard arguments

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2

**Notes to reviewers**: Apologies for the delay in posting a new chapter. My broadband internet is experiencing problems with a fault that my providers are being tardy in fixing, so my connection is sporadic at best. I was looking after my six-year-old grandson last week and the opportunity for some quiet writing was minimal. He deserves better than sporadic attention from his grandma! I will say thank you to those who reviewed. Reviews are always wonderful to receive, but for me the point of writing the story is that I have fun doing it. If people have fun and enjoy reading it then that is a bonus for me. My one and only request is that you read and enjoy!

**Chapter 23 – Soft words and hard arguments**

"He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream  
and he sometimes wondered whose it was  
and whether they were enjoying it."  
**Douglas Adams  
**_"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"_

"The average man, who does not know what to do with his life,  
wants another one which will last forever."  
**- Anatole** _(On immortality)_

**The camp of Ereinion Gil-galad, somewhere west of the Forest of Brethil, First Age  
**  
Major Gary Matthews, Royal Regiment of Fusiliers, sat bolt upright in his blankets and then winced as his head connected with a particularly low branch that appeared to have inconveniently placed itself behind him while he slept.

For a moment he couldn't exactly remember where he was and that remembrance didn't come to him until his bleary-eyed gaze had swept around a silent campsite, registered the soft snuffling and snorting of tethered horses and finally rested upon the small group of tall, unearthly-looking beings with long shining hair, gracefully pointed ears and even brighter and shinier eyes.

_Elves._

He groaned inwardly as a flood of recent memories threatened to overwhelm him. Of course, he wasn't any place anywhere near as uncomplicated as his basher (1) out on exercise, but he _was_ in a campsite run by Elves on the edge of some forest in the middle of God only knew where, in a place that shouldn't exist in any kind of reality.

The small group of Elves who sat around the glowing campfire and spoke in their soft-toned melodic language hadn't noticed that he was awake yet and he didn't really want them to. What he actually needed was a few moments to himself to come to terms with everything that had happened to him and his small group since they had arrived at the Forest of Dean to carry out the relatively normal task of looking for weapons and a severed head five days earlier.

A slightly hysterical giggle burst up through his chest at the latter thought and he struggled manfully to stifle it so that he didn't disturb anyone. He simply didn't feel up to long involved explanations about why he was cackling maniacally to himself in the middle of the night when he should have been asleep even if he could have leapt over the language barrier. On the other hand, there was definitely something supremely cockeyed and morbidly hilarious about the notion that looking for a severed head was anything _like_ a normal task, yet compared with everything they had been through in the past five days, it seemed blissfully so.

He lay back down, turned his head and allowed his attention to stray to two figures heaped in the blankets that lay quite near him. The gently snoring lump of blanket just a couple of feet away from him identified itself as Jim Moore's sleeping form and if he strained his head upwards slightly without removing it from the folded blanket that served as his pillow he could just make out Kim's fair hair in another heap of blankets. She had securely wrapped herself in the blankets like a cocoon and he chuckled quietly to himself at the sight.

It had been lucky for her that many of the healers that accompanied the High King's battle group were female and, given her unfortunate physical situation, Gary had been only too delighted to hand her over to them. Despite the language difficulties, they had done their job admirably and it was a well-fed, comfortable and much cleaner Kim, dressed in borrowed clothing, who had been delivered back to Gary by a graceful Elven woman who smiled and bowed to him as she did so. Kim had smiled sleepily at Gary as she accepted the blankets he handed to her and he had only resisted pulling her into his arms by the skin of his teeth.

Jim's quiet dependability and support were beginning to be one of the mainstays of the little group now that Chief Knowles had succumbed to his injuries. Kim wasn't used to acting in the field and was still trying to find her feet, but the young copper was proving to be a real gem.

Gary shifted his gaze to the healer's tents where the Chief had been taken immediately they had made camp-fall. He had tried to go in after the tall warriors as they gently lifted their burden and carried it carefully to where the healers were waiting, but a strong slim hand on his arm prevented him. He had turned to find the Elf who had helped them fight off the Orcs smiling gently at him with a look of sympathy in his dark, limpid eyes.

He had spoken in that melodic soft language that Gary assumed was Elvish and shook his head. In turn, Gary lifted his shoulders helplessly and shook his head to indicate that he didn't understand, whereupon the Elf pointed to himself and said carefully.

"E-res-tor." Then he smiled and pointed to Gary.

Gary cast an impatient look towards the healer's tents, but realised that if he wanted these beautiful beings to help him and the others, he needed to play the game the way they wanted it played. He smiled and pointed to his chest. "Gary."

Erestor's laugh was musical and lovely to hear, just like the language he spoke. "Garee." He repeated dutifully and laughed again.

Gary laughed with him and pointed at him. "Erestor?"

The Elf nodded enthusiastically and gently grasping his arm, gestured towards a group of his colleagues who were currently surrounding a tall, slim but regal-looking dark haired elf.

_The big_ _Boss Elf._ Gary thought to himself wryly, although the 'Boss Elf' himself actually looked quite young from a distance.

"Come." Erestor said in a heavily accented, but unmistakable attempt at English.

Gary started in surprise, but allowed himself to be drawn across to the group and Jim detached himself from them almost immediately. He had a slightly worried look on his face.

Gary raised an eyebrow in query and Erestor diplomatically distanced himself so that they could talk in relative privacy. "What gives?" He asked quietly.

Jim shook his head. "I can't understand everything they say, unless they speak really slowly, but I think the tall dark-haired chap is their King. High King in fact, if I understand them correctly."

Gary shrugged. "I don't see the problem. So he's a King, so what? All the better really, at least they have resources. Perhaps we can get them to help us find that creature and the missing weapons."

"Well it's _not _a problem really." Jim hesitated. "It's more _who_ he is rather than _what _he is."

Gary sighed wearily. The events of the last few days were beginning to catch up and he could feel his thoughts wandering randomly, when what he really needed to do was focus. "Okay, I give up. Who is he?"

"Somebody who, by rights, shouldn't exist except in the pages of a book." Jim replied bluntly. "As far as I can gather from what is being said, his name is Ereinion Gil-galad. The silver-haired bearded one who brought us here is called Cirdan and the tall golden-haired impressive looking one is called Glorfindel."

Gary looked puzzled. "I still don't see… What book are we talking about?"

"They're characters from the works of J R R Tolkien, Gary. He was the Professor chap who wrote the Lord of the Rings. Ereinion Gil-galad was the High King of the Noldor Elves in exile at the end of the First Age and through the Second Age until his death at the Last Alliance. Cirdan was…is a shipwright. He builds or will build the ships that ferry the Elves from Middle-earth to Valinor. Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower was a warrior of a hidden city called Gondolin who died killing a Balrog of Morgoth while helping his folk escape."

Gary looked over at the vibrant, shining golden Elf. "He looks remarkably alive to me." He said with a tired grin.

Jim laughed reluctantly. "He was re-embodied and sent back to Middle-earth to help Gil-galad, but the point _I'm _making is that all of these people aren't, or shouldn't be, real. They're meant to be characters from Tolkien's imagination. Even though Middle-earth was supposedly meant to relate to our earth, it was a separate place with a separate history, filled with things like Balrogs, Elves and dwarves, not to mention magical rings of power and stuff. It's _not real_." His voice rose slightly when he said this and the little knot of Elves, who were all talking animatedly at their slightly bemused looking King, stopped and looked at Jim and Gary for a moment before resuming their conversation.

Gary put a hand on Jim's arm. He could feel how tense his muscles were and knew that exhaustion was rapidly overtaking them both.

"Okay, okay." He said in the most soothing voice he could conjure up. "I realise that all of this is a bit much to take in and I'm not saying that you're wrong, but we're all exhausted and, strange as it may seem, for the first time in so many days I feel secure enough to let go and get some real sleep after some real food. We can wrestle with it in the morning." He looked around and then up at the sky. They had ridden a fair amount of the day and the blue sky was beginning to darken to the hue of early evening. The smell of food cooking was making his stomach grumble painfully.

As if he was aware of the conundrum being experienced by his guests, the tall dark-haired Elf who Jim had referred to as the High King held up his hand and the talking stopped abruptly. He came over to Gary and Jim, smiled, placed one hand over his heart and bowed.

"Mae Govannen." Despite his apparent youth, his voice had a lovely deep reassuring timbre.

"It means 'well met'." Jim muttered in Gary's ear. "It's a traditional greeting."

Gary held out his hand. "How do you do?" He said politely, hoping his tone would be self-explanatory.

The Elf looked a little taken aback at being offered a hand, but after a slight hesitation he took it in his strong firm grasp and smiled at Gary before launching into an introduction similar to Erestor's by pointing to himself. "Ereinion." He said firmly, but his shining grey eyes were twinkling like stars.

_Here we go again._ Gary sighed and pointed to himself. "Gary." Then he pointed to Jim and said. "Jim."

Ereinion bowed. "Gar-ee. Zhim." He said and then laughed and offered his own hand to Jim who chuckled.

"Close enough." He said cheerfully as he took Gil-galad's proffered hand. "Mae Govannen." He added as an afterthought.

Ereinion's face lit up and he let loose a steam of words that made Jim back away, hold out his hands and shake his head. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. You need to speak more slowly." He said with a flustered look at Gary.

He needn't have worried because the High King seemed to understand. He gently grasped Jim's shoulder, gave it a reassuring squeeze and then proceeded to speak very slowly and concisely. Every now and again Jim would nod and reply in a very halting version of their language while the High King patiently strove to understand the bastardised, mangled Elvish. Gary stood by silently, frustrated that he couldn't understand anything that was being said or offer anything to the disjointed conversation.

Finally Jim turned to Gary. "He bids us welcome and seems to know about our problems and the missing weapons, although _how_ he does is a mystery to me. I just don't understand enough Sindarin to get the ins and outs of the whole thing. He's apparently here to help us." He finished on a rather confused note and Gary was too tired to question him further.

"Okay." Gary smiled at the High King who beamed back at him. "Le hannon."

The High King grinned and made the 'hand over heart' gesture again. He spoke very slowly to Jim and indicated the tall golden warrior who also bowed.

Gary raised a querying eyebrow at Jim. All this bowing was making him feel dizzy.

"The tall blond chap is Lord Glorfindel. If we go with him he'll show us where we can clean up and there'll be a meal waiting for us afterwards, then he'll show us where we can bed down for the night. I think he said that he would discuss things tomorrow, but I'm not certain." Jim explained.

Gary chuckled. "You seem to be understanding quite a bit of the lingo."

Jim flushed. "Only if they speak very slowly. It's a lot different from the 'teach yourself Sindarin' courses they put on the Internet."

"Still, it's rapidly becoming clear that we'd be pretty lost without you and since we desperately need to discuss this whole situation, having someone on our side who can understand even some of the language is better than no one at all." Gary replied quietly. Jim blushed and muttered under his breath in embarrassment.

Satisfied that his guests had understood the preparations for their comfort, the High King smiled briefly at Gary and Jim before turning back to the general discussion with his warriors. Glorfindel led his charges away to experience their first bit of Elven hospitality and some civilisation since being thrust so abruptly into Middle-earth only days earlier.

Gary lay quietly and went over the events of the evening in his mind. As much as he wanted to deny it, the possibility that they were no longer in their own time was becoming more of a probability as time wore on. However Mrs Matthew's little lad was a practical soul and he made a decision to just let events pan out rather than try to find logical reasons why everything had happened the way it had.

What _were _worrying though, were the dreams he was having. They had started out as random scattered fragments but were rapidly coalescing themselves into a coherent pattern and he felt as though he was losing a little part of himself with each ensuing dream.

* * *

Gary wasn't the only one having trouble resting that night. Not too far away and well within viewing range of the three mortals, Melannen, Rion and Noruthalion sat around their own small fire and discussed the matter of the alleged impostor.

"We should tell Lord Gil-galad of our suspicions." Rion maintained firmly. "This Maia or whatever he is meant to be is impersonating Eonwe, that much is plain to me."

Melannen glanced at his young companion. "Yet this impostor, as you maintain him to be, was responsible for saving my life. I have seen and spoken with Eonwe many times; indeed, I learnt my first swordsmanship from him as an elfling. He was gentle and kind, perhaps a little remote also, but that is because he is the Herald of Manwe and elevated above us. I recognise the same qualities in this Garee as were present in Eonwe. True, he does not seem to recall Valinor, me or Quenya, but he could have lost his memory."

"Truly a magnificent achievement, even for a Maia who is mightiest in arms." Scoffed Rion. "To have left the main host camp after we did, join up with the mortals and lose his memories in what must have only been a day or so. Nay, he is an impostor I am sure of it. I would wager that he is one of the enemy's minions sent to cause trouble. Not that I am not pleased that he rescued you Lord Melannen." He added hastily as Melannen's mouth twisted wryly and his eyebrow climbed up to his hairline.

Melannen looked at Noruthalion who had, so far, said very little on the matter. "What think you Noruthalion? Are you of the same mind as Rion?"

Noruthalion said nothing for a moment. He picked up a stick and began to idly draw letters in the dirt and ashes surrounding the fire, but a pensive expression played across his slender face. Finally, just as Rion had begun to bristle with impatience at the silence, he spoke. "I know little of Lord Eonwe, other than what I have seen at festivals or on the few occasions we are summoned to Mahaxanar. He did once visit Lord Finarfin's court to join in the celebrations surrounding the Lady Earwen's begetting day, but I did not meet him. I was too young and watched the festivities with my nurse from a balcony above the main feasting hall. I can recall him dancing with the Lady Earwen, but I know nothing of his true nature. I would say however that if this Garee _were_ a minion of the enemy and a Maia he _could _perhaps impersonate someone like Eonwe quite well…"

"There!" Rion burst in impetuously. "You see? Noruthalion agrees with me. We must tell Lord Gil-galad. If we do not then we put all here at risk." He made as if to jump up to his feet, but was forestalled when Noruthalion grabbed his elbow and drew him back down.

"I did not say that I agreed with you Rion." He said softly. "I merely meant to say that a minion of the enemy would not necessarily show a foul face to those he was sent to hinder. However, I sense no ill in this Garee at all. He is most genuinely concerned for his companion, the one they call Sheef and the others. His face and actions clearly showed this. I can see the resemblance between Garee and the Herald of Manwe, yet…" He hesitated slightly as if searching for the right words. "There is something about him that makes me think that Garee is also very different from our Herald. Something is missing and not just his memory. To me, it is as if he had absolutely no recollection of this place rather than merely lost a memory of it. He does not even recall Elves he has met on many occasions or the task he has been sent here to carry out for the Valar. If I did not think it was a ridiculous notion, I would say that he is indeed Eonwe, but an Eonwe from a different time or place, with a different past altogether."

Both Melannen and Rion stared at him; Rion looked as if he thought his friend had lost his senses entirely.

"How could that be?" Rion's tone was aghast. "It is simply not possible. There is past and there is present. No one other than perhaps the Valar and Eru Iluvator know truly what the future may bring."

"Indeed." Melannen said thoughtfully. "Yet that on its own gives some little credence to Noruthalion's theory. I have a notion that many futures may be possible and can be altered by many events. One small action by any of us in the next few hours could alter our individual futures completely. What if one of those many futures has impinged on our own present? What if Garee is, as Noruthalion believes, an Eonwe from another future and therefore has no memories of Middle-earth as it is now? Perhaps his memories are of another place, like this, but slightly different. I think what we might have is two Eonwes, both genuine, yet both belonging to different realities."

Rion deflated slightly. "I am confused." He said in a sulky voice. "I do not understand this talk of other futures or realities and past events."

"I can give you no explanations that would make sense to you." Melannen said quietly. "Since I do not understand it entirely myself. My thoughts came from a discussion I once overheard between my father and Olorin. Olorin said that he had reason to believe that the time barriers between future, present and past could be breached, but it would take someone very, very powerful to achieve it and a certain set of circumstances to encourage it."

"Someone like Morgoth perhaps?" Noruthalion looked at Melannen from under his dark fringe of eyelashes. The atmosphere around them seemed to grow very still and darken at the mention of Morgoth's name.

Melannen glanced around uncomfortably. "Yes." He whispered in reply. "But I think we would do well not to bandy his name around too much in this place. He has spies everywhere and his arm is long." The two younger Elves also glanced around uneasily. "I think for now we should just watch this Garee and see what he does. With three of us observing him, the opportunity for mischief will be less. Let us see what he does and how he interacts with Lord Gil-galad and the other Moriquendi. If we see anything ill in his behaviour we can then approach the High King or, if necessary, one of us could return to Lord Eonwe and report our findings."

* * *

Olorin took the opportunity of watching everything unfold around him with huge interest and fascination. Although he could not actually perform healing on this mortal body, his spirit was powerful enough to sustain it while the healers worked their own magic.

The wound itself had not been bad, certainly not bad by the modern standards of medicine that his host and three companions were used to, that much Olorin had gleaned from the Chief's memories and experiences. What had made it a lot worse than it should have been were a number of factors, the chief one among them being that the Chief was both exhausted and in need of bodily nourishment. Had he been rested and well fed, the loss of blood would not have drained him quite as much as it did. Nor would infection have set in quite as quickly through dirt in the wound.

Olorin lay unmoving while the healers silently glided around his bed and efficiently cleaned the wound, packed it with healing herbs and stitched it up. The herbal drink that they had managed to make him swallow did not numb the pain caused by these ministrations, but it certainly made the body relax. He had no doubt at all that had the mortal been inside his own body he would have been in a deep sleep, but the drink had little effect on a Maia's spirit and Olorin could overcome the effects with ease.

He used the time to access the Chief's memories and discovered that his name was not Sheef, nor was it pronounced with the soft 'sh' sound, but rather with the somewhat harder 'ch' sound. He also discovered that Chief had a given name, which was Harold. In fact he had two. Harold and Knowles, both commonly used together. The name Chief was in fact a sort of military title, rather than an actual name.

There were other deeper memories that the Maia did not attempt to access, because they were much darker than the ordinary memories and experiences the Chief used on a day-to-day basis. He had a wife and two daughters and through the memories of his family and his life Olorin managed to get a fascinating glimpse into the world that these strange mortals lived in; a world very different to either Middle-earth or Aman.

It was a place of machinery and gadgetry. It was also a world of strife, poverty, hunger and war, which marched alongside the great wealth of what the Chief called 'a consumer society'. There was a huge gap between the rich and the not so rich and this was something that horrified Olorin who came from a place where everything was plentiful and nobody wanted for anything, physically or spiritually.

All in all, the world that the Chief and Eonwe's future self inhabited was no less dangerous and only marginally more pleasant than Middle-earth was under the thrall of Morgoth Baugir in the First Age and Olorin found the thought rather depressing. The world of these mortals had _its _dictators too, and no matter how pleasing the public persona, the end result was still the same; an oppressed mass of people at the bottom with a few powerful and rich at the top of the tree.

There also seemed to be little magic in this strange world, even of the natural kind. Nature and her resources were largely ignored while progress was made elsewhere. The second born of this world had long since lost their connection with the good earth, each other and the bounty of nature and instead clung to this strange item called 'money' which was apparently some form of bartering currency, machinery and technology. All new words that were grist to the mill of a Maia of Olorin's highly inquisitive nature.

Olorin sighed. Perhaps _this _was why Eru had taken it upon himself to send a Maia to them. Maybe Eonwe in the persona of this Gary Matthews was there to try and redress the balance somehow. It would make sense to send someone with the immense physical and mental strength of the Herald of Manwe. Anyone else would fold under the weight of the responsibility.

All in all, the information that Olorin had managed to sift from the Chief's memories and experiences was not wholly pleasant. There _were_ good parts of course, such as the great love he bore for his family and his concerns for the future of his children. Even the military part had its amusing and pleasing aspects, but the picture of the world he lived in and his feelings about it were disquieting to say the least, especially to someone who lived in the divine aura of the Valar and the bliss of the Blessed Isle.

He also gleaned that the Chief was subordinate to Gary who apparently had the title of Major, a senior rank in the military of that time to which they both belonged. The woman Keem, who he now knew was actually called Kim with a short 'i' sound in the middle, also belonged to the same military and was very subordinate to Gary.

Their language, which the Chief called 'English', was complex, confusing and utterly amazing. There were so many words that appeared to sound the same but meant something completely different. Using the wrong word in the wrong context could prove to be a major hazard and he would have to be careful. All he could do was listen to the others when they spoke and try to learn as he went along.

The trouble was, he didn't have all that much time to assimilate the Chief's persona and make sure that he encouraged Gary and Kim to cement their relationship. He could only occupy the Chief's body for a limited length of time before Namo was forced to release the Chief's fea from the Halls of Waiting.

He also knew that Gary was on a limited timescale. Only one Eonwe could occupy one present at any given time. Somehow Olorin had to help Gary/Eonwe achieve his aim in finding his modern weapons and get back to where he could step through to his own time period as quickly as possible. The closer in proximity the two Eonwes became, the more difficult this would be to achieve. The Eonwe of this time was inherently stronger because he belonged in this world and Gary/Eonwe didn't, therefore he would eventually impose himself upon his modern counterpart to the point where Gary/Eonwe would cease to exist at all.

Olorin had a lot to do and not much time to do it in.

The race was well and truly on.

* * *

(1) **Basher**: Military terminology for a one-man tent usually created from a groundsheet or the massive rubber poncho that all soldiers were issued with. I am not certain whether soldiers are still issued with them these days. However, anything near at hand and which was suitable for the purpose could be utilised. 


	24. Through a glass, darkly

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to reviewers: **

**Pink Panther** – I completely agree that Olorin is a fascinating character. In spite of the fact that he felt he had nothing to offer in the run up to the War of the Ring and told Manwe as much, I always get the impression that out of all of the Maiar, he was perhaps the one who spent most of his time trying to understand the world and the people around him. I believe that this is that character's true strength. The vitality he brought with him, along with the sensitivity to the feelings oor tutting to himself and shamortal or not.

It's always been my impression that the Valar hardly understood the Elves, never mind the Second born. They made so many ill thought out decisions with regard to the Eldar and the future of Middle-earth and were genuinely puzzled when people like Feanor thumbed their noses at them. They seemed so stuck in their rut of perfection that it bewildered them when not all of the Elves wanted to live and bask in their reflected glory in paradise. In essence, the Valar were the ultimate snobs and 'klutzes' of Tolkien's world and this coloured their every action. I can almost see Eru Iluvator tutting to himself and shaking his head in despair every time they went off half-cocked and did something to make things worse.

I always see the Maiar, being the direct servants of the Valar and Ainur in their own right, as reflections of their masters and mistresses. Curunir (Saruman), Sauron and Olorin (Gandalf) stand out from their colleagues (as highlighted by their subsequent actions) and Eonwe does to a lesser degree even though he's always painted as the loyal obedient Herald of Manwe. I've always felt that underneath that seemingly obedient exterior is a passionate, fiercely intelligent man trying to claw his way out, which is why I chose to make him Gary Matthews in 2005, rather than who he was during the War of Wrath.

**Kaellana:** Welcome to the crazy fic! Thank you for your wonderful comments. I realised quite early on in fanfics especially in this fandom that writers either made Tolkien's characters so familiar and modern that they were completely out of character, or they erred on the other side and made them so formal that they seemed to be one dimensional. I like my characters to come alive, both original and those belonging to other authors. I feel it would be less than courteous not to make them come alive. The thing that many writers have problems with is making them become real without either completely mangling them or making them utterly peripheral, like cardboard cutouts.

Original characters in Tolkien fanfics are very strange animals. Usually writers err on the side of caution and make them belong to the world and time of Middle-earth and the Elves. This way they can create an original character that doesn't smack of 'Mary-Suedom'! Although it has to be said that this doesn't always work either. I've seen many an Elven or Rohirric Mary Sue.

If, however, they try to put original characters in from another timeline completely, then the OC's seem to me to be like square pegs in round holes. They _could_ fit if the correct caution was used when putting the story together, but they usually don't because the writers try to make modern people fit into an ancient setting without acknowledging the obvious difficulties such as technological advances and language barriers. My way around these problems was to have the whole story revolve around each group primarily interacting among themselves and 'bumping' into each other and interacting only when the storyline demanded it. It's not an easy task, because I have to change my outlook on how a character will react to any given situation with each different group.

I think the comment made by one reviewer that she actually 'cared' what happened to the original characters is a very telling one and one that I particularly took as a great compliment. You have since reinforced that and for that I thank you!

I also write about Brits because I am a Brit. The military angle was a given for me because of my background. However I do have to remember to give a footnote explaining the Brit/Military terminology for the sake of other nationalities that might read the story.

**Special note for Ellfine**: I hope everything is getting back to normal after the damage to your house while you were away on vacation. Take your time, read when you can and review when you are able. Above all, take some time for yourself.

**Note:** To anyone who may have caught this before I re-uploaded it. I spotted mistakes and uploaded it to correct them.

**Chapter 24 – Through a glass, darkly**

"The world has achieved brilliance without wisdom, power without conscience.  
Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants.  
We know more about war than we know about peace,  
And more about killing than we know about living."  
- **Omar Bradley**

"Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come."  
- **Carl Sandburg**

**A small anteroom in the Halls of Waiting, Aman. Timeline suspended.**

"It is your move." The voice was soft, but underlain with immense power.

Chief Knowles looked up and directly into the depthless, yet compassionate eyes of his opponent. "You catch on quickly." He remarked as he turned his gaze back to the chessboard that sat on the carved ebony table between them. He regarded the move that the other had made and grinned. "I thought you'd never played chess before."

Namo, Lord of Mandos and the Doomsman of the Valar sat back in his high-backed, carved ebony chair. His black silk robes were softly draped around his person and his long blue-black hair was swept away from his handsome face and confined by means of warrior braids tied with an ebony clip behind his head.

"I have not." He said, and now there was a distinct twinkle in his usually sombre eyes. "This is a game of _your_ time. Yet it is a game of strategy nevertheless and strategies rarely change, they merely develop as more people think of other things to improve them. It is still your move." He pointed out gently.

Chief stared down at the board and his expression was bemused. "Why did you choose these chess characters?" He asked curiously. "They seem to represent what's happening back there." He made a stabbing gesture with his finger towards the east and Middle-earth.

Namo laughed softly. "The pieces do not please you?"

"Well…they're nice enough and beautifully made. It's what they stand for that bothers me." The Chief shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He pointed at Namo's chess pieces. "See, those represent the Elves and my lot and you seem to have given me the enemy's pieces. I have the Orcs and the Balrogs, so every time I make a move I feel as though I'm making decisions against what is best for Gary and the others."

"_Someone_ has to play the enemy side." Namo observed and the twinkle in his eyes turned into laughter. "Who better than someone who knows nothing of the Orc or the enemy and can therefore move them impartially?"

The Chief looked doubtful. "I'm not sure that I _am_ impartial. After all, _whatever_ move I make could result in potential disaster for the people I care about."

"Can you say that you have _neve_r made decisions that were potentially dangerous for those in your charge?" Namo countered.

Chief sat back and expelled a sigh, or at least it would have been a sigh had his body been real and not something manufactured to make him feel more comfortable about being incorporeal. His mind flew unbidden back in time, or forward depending on one's point of view.

_The smell of death made him nauseous and acrid smoke stung his eyes, but that wasn't the only thing that was causing the tears to flow down his grimy cheeks. The path they took as they flowed down his cheek left clean tracks in the dirt and cam cream and trickled into his mouth leaving a salty taste on the tongue. _

"_Don't leave me Sarge." A voice, weakening by the second, caused him to glance down at the young man in his arms. "I'm scared." His young face twisted in momentary agony as his body tried to cope with the hideous wound he had received._

_Sergeant Knowles, Royal Marine Commandos, pressed down on the mass of field dressings he was trying to use as a pressure bandage on a gut wound that he knew fine well would take this kid's life, no matter how hard he pressed or how many buckets of tears he cried. All he could do was sit and watch as a young life seeped slowly into the dusty, uncompromising ground._

_He was also aware that his platoon was involved in some kind of firefight further on. He could hear the shouts and he knew that he needed to be with them. "Try to hang on son." He said gently. "The medics will be here soon and you'll be as right as rain."_

_The young man's eyes flickered open and he stared into Chief's eyes. "I'm going to die aren't I?" He asked with the sudden foresight of one who was already slipping away._

_Knowles bit his lip. "Of course not." He managed to force a jovial tone despite the chaos, death and mayhem around him. "They'll fix you up good and proper."_

_The dying soldier found the strength from somewhere to reach up and grab a handful of Knowles' combat jacket. He coughed and a thick trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. "If I don't make it Sarge, I need you to tell my mum…" He gasped as the pain hit him again, but rallied a moment later. "Tell my mum that I love her. You'll do that won't you? Please?"_

_The tears blotted out Knowles' vision. "Of course I will, but you're not going to die." His voice was thick and ragged with emotion. "I'm sorry lad. I'm sorry. Oh god."_

_The young man managed a smile that was more reminiscent of a grimace of pain than anything humorous. "Stop it Sarge. You did what was best. We had to get away from the vehicles. You took a chance and I was just unlucky." _

_The effort of speaking that many sentences proved too much for him and he finally slumped into merciful unconsciousness. His fingers released their hold on the jacket and his hand dropped bonelessly down by his side. Knowles gently eased his head back down onto his rolled up jacket and slid away from him. He got to his feet cautiously, glancing around him._

_As he made his way from cover to cover to reach the remainder of his platoon, he heard a vehicle and turned around, hand tightening on his assault rifle just in case. He needn't have worried. It was a British Army land rover with a red cross and a red crescent (1) painted on the side that lurched and bounced across the rough terrain and stopped beside the wounded man. The last thing he saw before resolutely turning away and heading towards the rest of the lads was the young man being lifted onto the back of the vehicle. _

_His next memory was of a cold grey day in a cemetery in North Yorkshire. The honour guard had been dismissed after the ceremony and it was only family and friends that now surrounded the grave. He seemed to be standing outside himself as he watched the grief stricken mother accept the folded Union Jack from the officer in charge. He wanted to go and speak to her and he knew he would eventually have to, but somehow he couldn't get his feet to move or his mouth to say the words that he had been charged to deliver by a dying man. _

_He stood in silent misery, head hung down, until the mother came to stand in front of him. "You were with my son when…" Her voice cracked with misery and all he could do was nod mutely. _

"_H...he..." Was all he could stutter as he stared into the tear washed eyes of the woman._

_She put her hand on his arm. "I know." She said softly. "He told you to tell me that he loves me. I knew my son very well Sergeant Knowles, as all mothers do, I know he loves me and he'll always be with me." She put her hand over her heart. "In here. You did the best you could do and he admired you. He often mentioned you in his letters home."_

_He swallowed back the tears and stood straighter. "He was a fine soldier and you should be proud of him."_

_For the first time that day she smiled through her tears. "We are."_

_Somehow her courage was all he needed to get through the rest of the day._

"A difficult thing to do, to make a decision that may not benefit all." Namo interrupted the flow of memories gently. "You knew there was a chance that not all may survive yet you served the needs of the majority, as any warrior who is in charge must needs do."

Chief blinked away the hot tears. "Yes, but it finished me off. I was no more good after that. When I got back home from Afghanistan I applied to re-badge. Parents should never outlive their children and I was tired of seeing death all around me." He gave a rueful smile. "And now look at me. Back in the front line with death around every corner, only this time it's me who got wounded." He reached out and took firm hold of the Orc chess piece that he knew fine well represented the one who had stalked them and now carried the weapons to his master. He moved the piece so that it stood between the main body of Orcs and Balrogs and the advancing Elven warriors.

Namo bent closer to the board and then looked up with a smile. "A very interesting move." He commented. "You place Thadak on his own and have not advanced him to join with the rest of the Orcs. Would his journey not be easier in a larger group of his own kind for protection?"

"Thadak?"

Namo's expression was inscrutable. "Thadak is his name, but then there is no reason why you would have known that."

Chief gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh well, _now_ you've gone and done it haven't you?" He said ruefully.

A look of puzzlement slid over Namo's face. "Done it? What have I done?"

Chief picked up the Thadak piece and stared at it before putting it back down on the board, back in the same place he had placed it earlier. "You've given him a name. That's fatal. The enemy don't have names, it makes it more personal and them harder to kill." He stared critically at Thadak and then at the other pieces. "I think he'll be faster and safer alone. He travels fastest who travels alone. He needs to get his burden to the Boss Macoulah safely. From what I've seen of his fellow Orcs, there's less chance of that happening if he joins up with them."

"You have given him an advantage then, against your own people." Came Namo's sly reply.

Chief shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. He'd be harder to track in a group. On his own, well that's a different story. Whatever he does he'll have to slow his journey now because he's between the devil and the deep blue sea. Orcs who are not necessarily his friends on one side and the Elves, who are definitely not his friends, on the other. I wouldn't be in his shoes for all the tea in China."

He cheerfully whistled a few bars of the old hit song 'Stuck in the middle' and Namo chuckled. The Lord of Mandos moved one of his pieces, the one that represented Lord Ereinion Gil-galad and his battle group, directly in the path of the advancing Orcs and sat back with a smug smile on his face.

The Chief frowned and then laughed. "Oh now, that's just plain nasty."

The Lord of Mandos gave him an inscrutable smile. "Yet it _is_ only a game, is it not?" He enquired cryptically.

* * *

Thadak squatted down at the summit of a small hill that was topped with some rough bushes and some gnarled weather-beaten trees. It seemed that no matter which way he looked, he had enemies, both immediate and potential. A few leagues to the west of him stood the army of shining Elves from across the big water with their commander who shone so brightly it made him want to vomit. Accompanying him was one of their gods, whose face Thadak would not be able to look upon without being instantly blinded. Or so he had been told.

A couple of leagues to the east of him towards the ruined Elven city of Nargothrond lay the camp of yet more shining Elves, although these Elves were vastly different to their counterparts from across the big water. Oh they shone, rightly enough, but with a different light and whilst both were formidable, fierce warriors, the Elves who came from the shores of Middle-earth were greater foes than the others for the plain and simple reason that they had more experience with fighting Orcs. Their wisdom came from hard battles and even harder defeats. The wisdom of those from across the big water came from the Gods themselves, yet that alone would not be enough to make them victorious.

Rumour abounded among the Orcs and lesser minions of the Great Enemy that the commander of the host had forbidden the Elves of Middle-earth to join in the War, yet this was not what Thadak was seeing. Every day more small units of Elven warriors tagged along at the back of the main army. Just two moons ago Thadak himself had seen the small army of an Elf well known to the Orcs as Red-Hair. He had seen for himself how the other Elves shunned Red-Hair and his clan. They called them 'Kinslayers' and seemed horrified and disgusted by them. Red-Hair neither seemed to care nor be interested in what his fellow Elves thought of him but he fought with a fierceness and efficiency that Thadak could appreciate.

He smiled a terrible smile. Red-Hair would have made a formidable ally, but despite being shunned by the others, he did not seem the type to be a turncoat. Instead, even to Thadak's ignorant eye, he and the dark-haired one with the beautiful voice who rode with him seemed driven by some other deeper and darker force than a desire to overcome the Great Enemy in Thangorodrim.

With them and their warriors rode two identical youngsters, no more than striplings even, who carried the light of the gods in their grey eyes and the mark of the second born on their faces despite their gracefully pointed ears. Brothers, Thadak surmised. Possibly kin of Red-Hair and the other one.

He grunted softly to himself and clicked his tongue in exasperation. No matter how hard he searched the fastest road was blocked. He could run to the west, but would be slowed down by having to elude the many relentless scouting parties of the huge army of the Gods. His plan had initially been to head straight north, but now a large war party of Orcs and Wargs was heading south directly down that road having managed to avoid travelling near the forest where army of the Gods was camped. Directly in their path lay the battle camp of the King from the mouth of the river that flowed into the big water, that which the Elves called the Mouth of Sirion. Sooner or later both groups would meet and there would be a battle.

Thadak could not afford to be distracted by a battle and if he joined up with the war party he would be forced to abandon his precious burden and fight. If he explained what his mission was to the Orcs in the war party he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't live to complete it. It would be a simple thing for one of them to kill him in the heat of battle and then claim the mission, and the reward, for himself

The insidious warning that he should keep to himself and take no counsel with others kept niggling at the back of his small brain.

_Especially_ not those of his own kind.

Thadak slumped morosely down and rested his back against one of the trees. He was trapped and could have kicked himself for taking a detour from the path that would have led him away and then back to his northerly route, thereby skirting both the Orcs and the Elves from Sirion. He had no idea why he did it even, it just seemed that for a moment his thoughts were clouded and when he saw clearly again he was between two hostile forces.

_Now_ what was he to do?

* * *

**The camp of Ereinion Gil-galad somewhere north of Nargothrond, Beleriand, First Age**

Kim hummed happily under her breath as she sauntered back from the river with the Elven woman who had accompanied her. Life felt better. So okay there was no tampax, but her belly wasn't as sore and the flow was light. The woman with her whose name she couldn't even begin to pronounce had supplied her with some cloths and a makeshift sanitary belt. She had also showed her how to get them clean. It was a pain in the bum to have to mess around like that, but Kim felt she could live with it, for a while at least. _At least it only happens once a month._ She comforted herself.

She felt less happy and sure about Gary Matthews. On one hand his eyes told her that he wanted her and this made her stomach feel fluttery and turned her knees to jelly. On the other hand, he seemed utterly determined to impose his rank over everything that she did, even to the point of demanding to know where she was going when she headed to the river to wash up.

Kim had, of course, drawn herself up to her full height, which was five foot nothing on a stick, and given him an icy glare which was meant to tell him that it was female stuff and he should mind his own damn business. However, Kim's full height didn't seem to impress him much, especially considering that the top of her head didn't even reach his elbow. The icy glare was directed somewhere in the area of his lower chest which lessened its effect somewhat.

Despite the considerable language difficulties, it was the healer who smiled and gave Gary an explanation using a few words of Elvish and many hand gestures. Once he got the gist of what she was trying to say, Gary had flushed to the roots of his hair, bowed courteously to both of them and backed away with an apologetic smile.

Even though every nerve in her body was screaming at her to accept the apology with a smile and mature understanding, another part of her obstinate brain insisted on making her sniff haughtily, give him a glance that would have withered Morgoth where he stood and marched off towards the river without a backward glance.

The healer laughed that silvery, bell-like laugh that all the Elves, male and female, seemed to have, gave Gary a merry, but speaking glance, and hurried after her.

In spite of the fact that Gary had just been given the brush off by the woman he wanted more than anything to impress, he couldn't help smiling ruefully at the situation. Embarrassment swiftly followed amusement when he realised that practically everyone in the camp must know about his feelings for her. They had to be written all over his face every time he spoke to or looked at her.

The trouble was that instead of this making him more amenable and pliable, it was having the effect of making him more stiff-necked and stubborn – a character trait that he had in plenty and one which had ultimately led to the ending of the disastrous relationship between his past self and Arien. It therefore went without saying that the problem with both of the protagonists in this deepening relationship was that they were both fiercely stubborn and proud which resulted in a supreme head-butting act every time they came into contact with each other.

However, despite the momentary clash with the man she was falling deeply in love with, Kim felt quite happy. The air in this place was sweet and enervating and the company of the Elves and their merry ways uplifted her soul in ways she couldn't even begin to understand. Unlike most of the mortals of Middle-earth, she didn't feel particularly daunted by them and the Elves happily responded in kind.

The Elven woman touched her arm and indicated towards the general campfire where everyone was congregating for the first meal of the morning. Kim scowled slightly when she saw Gary deep in conversation with Jim and the dark eyed Elf he called Erestor.

Her happy mood plunged slightly when Gary looked up and beckoned to her. With a sinking heart she started to walk towards them. What had she done now? Was he going to yell at her for glaring at him or reprimand her for not being polite to an officer? Her gut began to churn slightly and she discovered an extreme reluctance to join them.

Her dilemma was broken abruptly by the sound of a large number of hoof beats. She stopped dead as a group of horsemen trotted into the camp in between her and the campfire and effectively cutting her off from Gary and the others.

It was six and two threes as to who was more startled, her or the tall, slender silver haired Elf who led the group and who swung down from his horse and nearly collided with her. As it was he inadvertently trod on her foot and turned with a look of apology and dismay on his finely drawn features. He bowed and smiled faintly, then let loose a stream of rapid Elvish. In turn, she gaped stupidly at this gorgeous silver creature and then mentally kicked herself for acting like the local village idiot. By this time the healer had joined her and, seeing the questioning look that Lord Celeborn had on his face, launched into yet another burst of explanations.

The healer gracefully gestured at the dumbstruck Kim who heard her name, or rather the Elves version of her name being bandied around. The Elven woman then turned to Kim and indicated the silver Elf. "Hir Celeborn." She said softly by way of introduction.

"Keleborn?" Kim asked as she finally found her voice and a soft wash of colour flooded her cheeks.

Celeborn bowed courteously to her and she bobbed her head awkwardly in response. When she finally found the nerve to look into his amused ancient eyes, she discovered that they were such a shining light grey that they almost appeared to be the same colour as his hair. Any further words died in her throat as she took in the finely drawn beauty of this Elf with the wisdom of ages etched clearly in his eyes.

At this point Celeborn's attention was drawn away by the appearance of the High King himself who strode into the middle of the introduction calling out a greeting to him and smiling in welcome. He and the silver Elf clasped arms in greeting and the High King drew the new arrival away from Kim and the healer. Kim could see the earnest conversation being held between them as they went towards the King's tent. It was obvious to her that Celeborn was briefing Gil-galad on something.

This place was crammed full of beautiful men and while the looks of most of them struck her speechless, there was a deep knowledge inside her that she would much rather gaze into certain warm dark-blue eyes, even if they _were_ laced with disapproval a lot of the time. The Elven men were gorgeous without a doubt, but even on a good day it was unlikely that a mortal woman would get their attention and even if she had, they were immortal and she was mortal and there could never be any kind of real relationship between the two.

A gentle hand on her arm brought her back to the moment. The healer smiled at her and led her over towards Gary and Jim who were now sitting on the ground eating. She reluctantly bid farewell to the healer and sat down on the ground beside them. Jim grinned at her and winked, Gary said nothing at all as he handed her a plate of food.

The whole meal would have been devoured amidst this ghastly silence if it hadn't been for Jim heroically wading into the breach and engaging Kim in a ridiculous conversation that had her giggling in the space of quarter of an hour.

Gary sat silently, stolidly chewing and swallowing down bread and some sort of soft cheese, and all the while mentally berating himself for clamming up and turning into an officer the moment she came into his presence. He listened to her exchanging mutual abuse with Jim and cursed himself for being unable to treat her the same way. Yet, in the middle of the affectionate wrangling and just as he looked up from his meal, he caught her candid gaze upon him. Their eyes met and as they did so, their souls decided to take a little hand in the whole sordid affair.

In one split second they acknowledged the growing feelings of love between them. Their gazes held until Erestor interrupted them by coming to tell Gary that the High King would hold his meeting with him now.

It was with great reluctance that Gary dragged his eyes away from Kim's. She blushed bright red and looked down at the plate in her lap, he controlled his features with difficulty, stood up and followed Erestor to the tent. He felt light-headed and ridiculously happy.

Kim was left with her senses soaring and her heart thumping so violently that it threatened to jump right out of her chest.

* * *

**The main battle camp of the Host of the Valar, Forest of Brethil, Beleriand, First Age.**

Lord Eonwe, Herald of Manwe, Commander of the Host was coming to the end of a battle strategy meeting with his senior commanders. Lords Ingwion and Finarfin were present representing the Vanyar and the Noldorin sections of the army and also the odds and sods of Elven units who had joined as the army marched.

The erstwhile commander, for want of a better title, of the mortal men element of the Host whose name was Beohtir, was also present along with the leaders of three of the clans who owed their allegiance to him, their names were Godgifede, Stàn and Metodic. Also present were, of course, Lord Tulcas Astaldo and the Maia Curunir.

The only senior commanders who were not present were the Feanorians, Lords Maedhros and Maglor. It was not so much that Eonwe had failed to invite them, but more that he preferred to brief them separately since the Kin slaying was still a very painful reality for many of the other Elves who had come from Aman. The Herald would visit them later that evening and all the time he was in their company he would be uncomfortably aware that their reason for joining the Host in this war was not entirely because they wanted Middle-earth to be rid of Morgoth, although it certainly would be of benefit to them.

Theirs was a different primary agenda entirely since Morgoth held two of the Silmarils in his crown, which the Feanorians coveted in the name of their father and the oath that they swore.

Gary Matthews would have called the meeting an 'Orders Group' and this would have been a familiar concept to most modern military since it is the time honoured way for orders to be disseminated from the highest level to the lowest in order that everyone knew where they were supposed to be and what they were supposed to do.

The Host was due to strike camp and continue their inexorable march northwards towards Thangorodrim within the next forty-eight hours. The scouting parties sent out to spy the lay of the land, numbers and positions of the enemy had all returned and reported in. It had become clear to both Eonwe and Tulcas that a number of human settlements, ranging from tiny to quite large lay in their path. Many of them had limited defensive, and practically no offensive, capabilities. Large Orc war parties rampaged virtually unhindered around the countryside, killing, raping, pillaging and feasting wherever they went.

One of the scouting parties had reported having come across one such tiny hamlet being besieged by Orcs in this manner. They had soundly routed the Orcs and persuaded the inhabitants to pack up and come with them once some of the warriors had pursued the remainder of the war party and despatched them. They had not taken much persuading and even now were on their way to the northern coast to the very spot that Lady Galadriel was currently relocating everyone she could find. A group of Elven warriors were accompanying them to ensure their safe passage.

Just as Eonwe finished his briefing and had folded up the main map, a burst of vision seared through his head. His jaws clamped together painfully as a series of pictures and feelings shot through him. He clenched his teeth and briefly closed his eyes against the contact and managed to support himself by leaning over the table. An alarmed Tulcas saw the expression on his face and tactfully jumped up to usher the commanders from the tent in order to allow Eonwe a few moments to compose himself.

Tulcas' jovial tones as he ended the meeting and accompanied the generals out of the tent sounded far away to Eonwe. His arms resting on the table, which were the only things supporting him, were trembling with the effort and he blanched as yet another wave of strong emotions hit him.

At first he didn't recognise them for what they were. It had been so long since he had acknowledged love for anyone that the shared vision of Gary's rush of love and desire took him completely by surprise. Through Gary's eyes he saw the answering love in her eyes and it wrenched the very heart out of him. He gasped with the raw pain of it and tears sprang to his eyes, but as quickly as the emotions hit him, they dissipated and left him breathless with legs that would hardly support him. Every breath he drew hurt him.

He reached blindly behind him for the chair that he knew stood not far way, but it was the strong hand of his mentor that gripped him firmly and pulled him into a strong embrace.

"Steady my child. I am here." Tulcas whispered softly in his ear.

The tears overcame him then. All the misery that he had stored up and not been able to show after Arien came pouring out. The silent admission of love between his alter ego and the mortal woman Kim had unlocked the floodgates of emotions dammed up for far too long.

Eonwe leant against Tulcas' chest and wept as he had not been able weep over the loneliness and emptiness he had felt over Arien's rejection of him centuries earlier.

* * *

(1) Red Crescent - The Middle-Eastern equivalent of the Red Cross symbol


	25. The longest day

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Notes to reviewers**:

**Tuima:** Thank you for your review and the lovely comments especially about my original character Kim. It says to me that she is alive in the minds of the readers, which for me is a wonderful achievement always.

**Kaellana:** Again thank you. The idea of the chess game suddenly just popped into my head as I was sitting on the train and I mapped out the entire conversation between Chief and Namo there and then in my head. It just seemed fitting somehow, especially since Chief is a captive fea there at the moment.

Eonwe, bless him, is always portrayed as this elusive, virtually god-like figure, but I often wonder if he was continually bemused by the more bizarre things that the Valar did, yet being a servant of Manwe said nothing and just got on with it. I can see him closing his eyes, gritting his teeth and saying 'Here we go again' to himself after being given a particularly strange command. I don't see why he couldn't have feelings and emotions, which is why I've sort of given them to him by proxy through Gary Matthews. Gary/Eonwe is free from the restraints of the Valar, he's even free from the memories of who he was all those millennia ago and this is a deliberate act on the part of Eru who needs him to carry out a task, but without the baggage that he would have carried with him had his memories been intact. What this does, is make Gary a fresh page of Eonwe's life on which to write and play with and it also gives me a tool to make Eonwe more 'human' – so to speak. I'm sure there are many Tolkien devotees who would think I was taking too many liberties with him, but I feel they are acceptable because I don't think I am dragging him out of character. I am merely exploring another dimension of his personality. What wouldn't have been acceptable is me dragging Kim to Middle-earth for the sole purpose of her having a romance with Eonwe.

I wanted to hug him too when he broke down. I think my Eonwe might have liked to have a hug every now and again! I didn't want him to appear weak kneed or anything. I just wanted him to be as profoundly affected by the onslaught of feelings as Gary would have been.

**Sharon:** Thank you, for both reading and commenting, this is always greatly appreciated.

**General remarks**: Olorin clothed in Chief Knowles' body should be making his presence felt from now on and of course the Feanorian brothers have now been given their first honourable mention. However, this is primarily the tale of the four original characters and their quest and, in a roundabout, way, also the story of Eonwe rather than the story of the Silmarils and attendant stories. The War of Wrath took fifty years, presumably not a long time in the lives of immortals, yet still long enough for many things to have happened on the march northwards.

**Chapter 25 – The longest day**

"I may not have gone where I intended to go,  
but I think I have ended up where I intended to be."  
-**Douglas Adams**

"People don't fall in love with what's right in front of them.  
People want the dream -- what they can't have.  
The more unattainable, the more attractive."  
-**Xander (From Buffy the Vampire Slayer)**

Olorin didn't need Chief's memories and experiences to recognise a stand to when he heard one. Even bawled out in Sindarin, the meaning was crystal clear and the sudden flurry of activity within the healer's tents told its own tale.

Within seconds of the clarion cry going up, sounding clearly in Glorfindel's rich, golden tones and echoing down the cascade alert system that military, no matter what time or age, rely upon to get urgent messages from soldier to soldier, Elven healers turned abruptly from those who soothed and mended wounds into fierce warriors armed with wickedly curved bright swords and knives and who carried the bright light of impending battle in their eyes.

Once Olorin realised that he was the only one actually recovering from severe wounds and that the healers were preparing to defend him unto death, he leapt, without thinking, off the cot and landed much more heavily than he anticipated. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept through his now mortal form and he barely managed to support himself against the cot.

He realised after a moment that the severity of his injury and mere twenty-four hour recovery period meant that his body was still healing and he was still very weak. Sweat from the effort of making his leaden frame move poured down his forehead and trickled into his eyes making them sting and his legs felt like they weighed more than all the mountains of Beleriand put together. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand upright, bracing the corporeal form with all of the considerable strength of his Maiar spirit so that he could at least help in the defence.

"You must lie down. You are still not well enough." A firm voice interrupted his sterling efforts. He glanced around to find one of the healers standing beside him, steely eyes fixed on his errant patient and ready to use gentle force if necessary to make him heed his orders.

Olorin opened his mouth to reply but remembered, just before the Sindarin flowed out, that Chief wasn't supposed to understand any Elvish. Another wave of dizziness rushed through his body and he swayed drunkenly. The healer caught him and indicated, by hand gestures this time, that he was to lie down, shut up and be defended. He managed a weak crooked grin before allowing the healer to gently help him to lie back down on the cot.

As the healer turned away and headed to the tent entrance, he looked back and winked. "We can protect you without your help Edain." He said with a grin. "T'would be a great shame if you died from your injuries with so many here to aid you. Especially after all the hard work we did to heal your wound."

"'T'is an even greater shame that he cannot understand a word you are saying." One of the other healers, a female, laughed softly.

Glorfindel popped his head through the tent opening and glanced over at Olorin/Chief now lying back on the cot. "Ah, I see you heard the call to arms." He remarked to the healers who all laughed.

"Indeed Lord Glorfindel. Your voice is hard to ignore." The female who had spoken earlier chuckled. Another ripple of laughter passed amongst the assembled healers.

Glorfindel's eyes twinkled. "And our patient?"

"He heard you as well." Said the chief healer dryly. "We have only just managed to persuaded him to lie down and let us do the fighting."

The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower laughed softly. "It seems that warriors are the same no matter where one is." He smiled over at Olorin, who shrank back into the blankets before he remembered that Glorfindel was unlikely to recognise the Maiar who he had often spoken to in Valinor in the Chief's body.

Glorfindel stepped over to the cot. "You must stay where you are and obey orders. They are all as fine a group of warriors as they are healers." The accompanying gestures as he spoke left Olorin in no doubt as to the meaning of the words. He and the chief healer then stepped outside, but Olorin's Maiar hearing was sharp and he could follow their conversation with little effort.

"Who attacks us?" The healer sounded slightly worried.

"The scouts report a large war party of Orcs coming down from the north." Glorfindel replied. "It is better that they do not catch us unawares, especially given the presence of our guests. Lord Gil-galad has therefore ordered us to arms now."

"How soon?"

Glorfindel hesitated slightly and then shrugged. "I understand that they are still half a league away from us. An hour? Perhaps not as long as that even."

"We will be ready for them." The healer's voice sounded grim.

"We will indeed." Glorfindel squeezed the healer's shoulder reassuringly and then strode off in the direction of the High King's tent, which was currently being disassembled. Only the healing tent would remain standing during the impending battle and already Celeborn had deployed some of his archers in the trees above the area in order to rain arrows down upon the hapless enemy in case they got too close.

Their voices faded into the distance as they left the vicinity of the tent. Olorin shuffled down into the blanket the healer had cocooned him in and huffed a deep sigh. He felt rather exposed lying here while everyone else ran around armed to the teeth and geared for a fight.

His keen eyes alighted on a thin sharp curved knife generally used by the healers in their work. With one eye on the other healers and one eye on the knife, he surreptitiously reached out, grabbed it and sequestered it under the blanket. He immediately felt less vulnerable and a thought popped into his head that wasn't entirely his. _No way in hell am I going to be caught with my pants down and without something to defend myself with. _

Olorin chuckled softly to himself. That wasn't quite something he would have said, but it certainly sounded better than anything he could have thought of.

It looked like this was going to be a _very_ long day.

* * *

"What's going on?" Kim looked totally bewildered as she stood in the midst of the frantic, yet remarkably ordered, activity. She held a beautifully carved bone comb in her hand and had been trying to make some order out of her bed hair. 

Gary looked up from honing his sword with a whetstone and a smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. "I think we're being told to stand to. It sounds as though we're in danger of imminent attack."

"Stand to? Attack?" She echoed. "_No._ Absolutely not. They can't. My clothes." She looked around, panic stricken and yanked at the leggings she was wearing.

Gary bit his lip and tried not to laugh. "We're not being attacked by the fashion police, Kim. I don't think the Orcs will care _what_ you're wearing when they try to kill you."

Jim hooted with laughter and Kim turned fire engine red. "Very funny, that's not what I meant and you know it. My combat jacket and trousers are thicker than these clothes, they're far too thin, and there isn't enough protection." She said defensively and glared at Gary. The deep dimples that appeared in each cheek when he grinned gave him a roguish look and she had to try very hard to maintain her outrage and not melt into a puddle of goo at the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her.

"They look very fetching though, much more flattering than the green stuff." Jim offered. He had already unsheathed the scimitar he had carried since the other attack. The Elf who was called Celebrimbor had sharpened it for him and shown him how to care for the blade. The bandanna was back around his now shaggy black hair and the beard was much longer. He looked as though he was just waiting for the next pirate ship to round the corner and sweep him away to the Caribbean. "I'm sure the Orcs will appreciate the finer, more aesthetic points of the ensemble as they slice you in two and shish kebob you."

He emphasised his point by swishing the sword down in an arc one way and then the other. Gary winced as the blade whistled perilously close to his ear. "Would you mind not doing that so close to my head?" He demanded.

"Oops, sorry." Jim blushed and sheathed the sword. "Well, I think you look very dashing Kim. Very like that chick that hung out with Xena, Warrior Princess. Guinevere or something. She had lovely reddish gold hair and was quite fit really, if you like the shy, dorky type."

"Well _thank you_ for the vote of confidence, you…you apology for Johnny Depp. For your information Guinevere was King Arthur's queen, _Gabrielle_ was Xena's sidekick." Kim turned her glare on him instead and Gary vainly tried to turn his laughter into a cough. She turned on her heel, went in search of the healers who had taken her clothes and her sword and pretended not to hear the muffled hoots of laughter that followed her progress across the camp.

"I _knew_ her name began with a 'G'." Jim called after her plaintively. Gary shook his head and rolled his eyes. It was obviously going to be a long day.

* * *

Ereinion Gil-galad stood and watched the by-play between his mortal guests. "Comradeship has been forged between them over the past few days." He remarked to no one in particular. 

His fine dark brows drew together slightly in a frown as his gaze rested on Gary Matthews. Should he now tell the others of the contents of Eonwe's missive before the coming battle? Or should he leave it a little longer? Perhaps they could have found the Orc that carried the strange weapons much more swiftly if they were now not threatened by a larger band, which even now marched towards their position.

Celeborn had reported back that the Orc appeared to have gone to ground and made no attempt whatsoever to contact his brethren. The silver Elflord and his warriors had been preparing to hunt him down when they became aware of a greater danger, one that threatened the main party. They had reluctantly left their quarry to fester in whatever hole he had buried himself in and made haste back to the battle group. It was clear that he did not intend to join the other Orcs and now it was perfectly obvious to all of them that the Orc would make good his escape while the heat of battle was intense.

Gil-galad sighed with frustration. It appeared that fate was working against them. If they had not had to stop while one of the mortals recovered from his injuries; if they had just been a little quicker finding that cursed Orc; they could have discharged their duty to the mortals, seen them safely back to wherever they needed to be and been well on their way to join the Host by now.

He watched as Gary stood up flexing his sword arm, and noted the muscles rippling under the skin of the mortal's forearm, the smooth powerful lines of his muscular back and the tautness of his long legs. Looking at the man's beautifully sculpted features, the bronzed skin and the shining mass of golden-brown hair, he could well believe that this was a version of the Maia who held the title Herald of Manwe. Well they would soon see if a likeness was all he was. The Eonwe of Maiar fame was a mighty warrior, the mightiest of all in fact. When the battle began Gil-galad would see how he acquitted himself then.

He became aware of Glorfindel standing patiently beside him, watching him with those sky-blue far-seeing eyes. "All is prepared?" He asked, more for something to say rather than a lack of confidence in Glorfindel's expertise.

Glorfindel's golden brows knitted together slightly, but then he laughed. "Indeed it is. Do you not trust me to organise our defence then my Lord?" He asked lightly.

Gil-galad sighed again. "Of course I do, I trust you with my life even. I meant no offence. What of the injured mortal? How is he?"

"Staggering around with the intention of helping the healers fight, as I understand it." Glorfindel's tone was laced with mirth and Gil-galad couldn't help but smile. "The healers have all but tied him to his bed."

Gil-galad laughed at this and his sombre mood lightened. "Then let us make a good account of ourselves as we rout this band of vermin. We need to catch up with our thieving friend and I have a feeling that he will take advantage of our attention being elsewhere to make good his escape."

Glorfindel glanced sharply at the High King. There was an edge of extreme impatience and anxiety to Gil-galad's demeanour. "You are concerned he will escape, yet he travels alone and with a great burden. Even given a battle here, we will catch up with him eventually."

Gil-galad looked at his tall golden-haired companion. "Yes, we would, but something is telling me that we need to do this sooner rather than later. Lives, and perhaps much more, may depend upon it." His gaze rested again upon the tall figure of Gary Matthews as he spoke and Glorfindel followed it.

It was clear that the High King was worried about something, and that something had to do with the man called Garee. He would have pressed Gil-galad for more information but they were both interrupted by a horse galloping into camp and the rider sliding off it to kneel in front of his startled monarch.

"My Lord. The vanguard of the Orc war party is almost upon us."

Glorfindel turned to the High King with a gleam of triumphant mischief in his eyes. "It is a good job that I did all of that shouting and organising earlier, is it not my Lord?"

Gil-galad sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently it was going to be a very long day.

* * *

Eonwe was about to mount his horse when the visions struck again. His fingers tightened in the horse's mane and he closed his eyes tightly as the visuals stabbed into his conscious thoughts and then dissipated leaving behind a kaleidoscope of images, all from the mind of Gary Matthews. 

After a few seconds he managed to mount the animal without his usual panache and grace and in a somewhat drunken fashion. Ingwion who was sitting his horse alongside Eonwe noticed the sudden pallor of the Maia's usually warm golden complexion and reached out to him as he lurched into the saddle and sat for a few moment with his head slightly bowed.

"Are you quite well my Lord?" He enquired anxiously.

Eonwe forced the slight dizziness and nausea that he had come to associate with any onslaught of visions from his alter ego down and managed one of the his famous smiles. "Yes, I am quite well." He replied not very truthfully.

The truth of the matter was that although he could block the worst of the visions, for him to not see them at all would require Gary to have more control over his conscious thoughts. The kind of control a Maia would easily have the strength to exert. It was there, deep inside Gary Matthews, but because his memories of the time before his existence in the modern age had been firmly blocked, he had no way of accessing those powers that most Maiar simply took for granted. Therefore his visions, emotions and thoughts were pouring into Eonwe's overloaded consciousness unchecked. In essence, Eonwe was having to cope with two sets of everything, simply because his future self was not aware that he was sending out emotional messages and even if he was aware, did not have the ability to stop it.

Aware that Ingwion was giving him rather doubtful looks, Eonwe braced himself both mentally and physically. He sent a silent prayer to Eru Iluvator for the strength to carry on despite what was happening to him and after a while, as though Eru had heard him, it seemed that the burden he was carrying grew a little lighter.

He impulsively placed a hand over Ingwion's gloved hand. "It is nothing, I merely did not get much rest last night. There is so much to be done before we reach Thangorodrim and we must press on. Time is of the essence. Have your herald sound the trumpet for the march to continue Lord Ingwion. We have a foe to vanquish for the peace of Middle-earth and the triumph of the Valar!"

A relieved Ingwion signalled to his Herald who obligingly sounded a silver trumpet. The dulcet silvery tones of the instrument grew as Finarfin's Herald took up the note and the order to march was passed down throughout the entire army, rag-tag units at the rear as well.

Ingwion saluted his Commander. "May I have your leave to ride with my warriors my Lord?" He asked respectfully.

Eonwe stared intently into the slender handsome face of Ingwe's eldest son. The young Ellyn's aspect had lightened considerably since Ereinion Gil-galad's messages that his brother Melannen had been recovered unharmed had reached the host only a day earlier. The Herald inclined his head graciously in assent. "You have my leave." He said with an impish smile that brought out deep dimples in both cheeks.

Ingwion responded with a brilliant smile of his own and Eonwe felt his heart lighten further. The Vanyarin commander lightly pressed his knees against his horse's flank and bent down to whisper in its velvety ear. The horse needed no further encouragement; it whinnied in pleasure and cantered away in the direction of the Vanyarin contingent of the host.

"So, what did you just see?" Tulcas reined his horse in alongside Eonwe, who was busy massaging one tender temple with his forefinger.

Eonwe gave a rueful smile. "They have entered combat and I do not know whether to feel grateful because it will give me time to put more distance between us or sorry because I think I will get to review all of the vivid highlights of the battle in bright colour with every attendant emotion."

"Entered combat?" Tulcas enquired. "With whom?"

"As far as I can understand it, a large war party of Orcs from the north and somewhere, in the middle of the whole disaster, is our friend with the weapons." Eonwe replied dryly.

"It seems that Morgoth is extending that arm of his again." Tulcas replied through his teeth. "What I would give to rip it right out of his socket and beat him to death with it."

Eonwe tried his best not to laugh, but failed miserably. His rich laughter rang out and settled over the host like healing balm. Everyone smiled and the notion of the long march behind them, and even longer march in front of them, made them step lighter.

"What a pity his arm is not really real." He said with a sly grin and sidelong glance at his mentor. "I would bet a year's salary on that fight."

"Not really real? Are you sure you are not being unduly influenced by your other self?" Tulcas asked with a raised eyebrow. "What does 'not really real' mean exactly? And wait…you get a salary? When did we start paying the Maiar for their services?"

Eonwe gazed around at the countryside in pretend unconcern and hummed a fairly bawdy tune currently popular in the inns around Aman under his breath. Eventually his wandering gaze met Tulcas' glare with a look of assumed innocence. "Not really real? It means that Morgoth is basically incorporeal, just as we are, so his arm is not real, it is merely there for the same reason that you and I clothe ourselves in flesh, for the sake of those among us who cannot do it. So you could rip it off and beat him as much as you liked, his spirit would still exist and he would just grow another arm."

"Oh. I see." With a deep frown on his face Tulcas settled back on his horse and considered the explanation. "I suppose you are right about the arm. And the salary?"

Eonwe's dimples peeped out again and a light of mischief filled his expression. "Oh, I just said that to see what you would say. Of course we do not get a salary. What would we spend it on? Like the Valar, we Maiar have no need to gather material possessions around us." He reached down and gently patted his horse's neck. "Such a shame really. I quite enjoy eating, drinking and all the pursuits that having a body implies. I just don't enjoy sharing it with another version of myself."

"You would rather have the mortal woman…what was her name again…Keem, Kim to yourself?" It was Tulcas' turn to be sly. "I am surprised at you Eonwe. I never thought of you as a ladies' man and with a mortal woman too."

Eonwe shrugged and grinned. "She is…ah…cute."

Tulcas' eyebrows hit his hairline. "Kewt? What kind of word is that?"

Eonwe gave a wicked little chuckle. "_His_ kind of word. I do think that some of the things he thinks and terms he uses are beginning to rub off on me. Cute is _his_ word, as applied to something like a pretty young woman, chubby elfling or a puppy. Adorable, something to be hugged and loved."

"He wouldn't say that if he saw the puppies Orome's hounds give birth to."

Eonwe laughed. "That is only because the last time Orome visited you one of them sat under the bench in the garden and chewed one of your best soft leather boots into shreds. Ilmare laughed about that for weeks. She still giggles if someone uses the words 'Tulcas' and 'boot' in the same sentence."

"That was my favourite pair of boots, and now I only have one of them. What in the name of Eru am I supposed to do with one boot?" Tulcas asked plaintively.

Eonwe wiggled his eyebrows at the Vala. "Give it to a one-legged man? We have seen a few of those since arriving in Middle-earth."

"Yes we have, more's the pity."

"We cannot solve everything." Eonwe said in a gentler tone. "Whilst many of the ills of the Edain and others can be placed squarely at Morgoth's door, sometimes the nature of the Secondborn is such that, except for those who lost limbs or were injured through wars with the Enemy, they are often the authors of their own ills. Many of those we have seen received their disabilities through disease and this is caused by deficiencies in their own hygiene. No matter how much the Eldar have tried to teach basic cleanliness it has yet to filter down to the poor and more ignorant and that is solely the fault of their rulers and not necessarily Morgoth or the Valar."

"We should still do better." Tulcas said in a soft voice. "We Valar think of Middle-earth as part of our responsibility, yet we gaily and arbitrarily choose when and when not to take responsibility for what happens within it. Look at this war. There will be much upheaval and many innocents will die and all for the sake of not keeping Morgoth in chains when we had him." He intercepted the slightly surprised look on Eonwe's face. "Oh I _know _that he is Manwe's brother and Manwe is purity personified and therefore simply cannot understand why he will not just play his part in the music like the rest of us. The fact of the matter is that he is wholly evil and will _never _change. And now look; we are sweeping up after him again. I promise you and Middle-earth this, once we capture him he will stay where we put him and I will stand guard over him myself if necessary."

Eonwe leant over and placed a gentle hand over the Vala's. "As will I."

Tulcas' sombre mood broke and he smiled. "You? You will be far too busy fathering babies on your little mortal Kim. I can just see you with a whole brood of little half Maiar running around clutching at your legs."

Eonwe shuddered. "A brood? No. Definitely not. No brood. If that is what Eru has sent me to the future to do then I refuse to do it right now. One might be nice perhaps, or even two if the first one is female." He looked over at the now broadly grinning Tulcas with growing alarm tinged with horror. "What am I saying? No children, definitely no children. I do not have the time to spare what with the many commands from both Lord Manwe _and_ Lady Varda. I am very, _very _busy. _All _of the time."

"But you would not be there would you?" Tulcas pointed out with an evil chuckle. "You would be over here sometime in the future." He flapped his hand in a vague direction somewhere ahead of them as though that was where the future lay.

Eonwe's mouth set in a firm line. "Absolutely. No. Children. That is my last word on the subject."

Tulcas stabbed upwards with his index finger. "Do not tell me that, tell him."

* * *

The sounds of metal crashing against metal, the smell of blood and death and the guttural snarls of Orcs and battle cries of the Elves rang around the clearing where only hours earlier there had been a peaceful, somnolent camp. Battle raged all around Gary Matthews as he twirled, cut, slashed and thrust with the huge battle sword he had carried since the last skirmish. 

Beside him the slim figure of Erestor carried out a graceful and elegant dance of death as Orc after Orc fell beneath his sword. On the other side of Gary, a grimly determined little blonde woman used the slender lethal looking sword the healers had given her in a slightly haphazard manner. Kim hadn't had the time to change her clothing before the vanguard of the war party had hit the camp and the healer had no time to show her anything but the basics of using the much lighter weapon than the one she had carried before.

Gary had to parry one of her wild blows more than once as he fought off the snarling enemy and only Erestor's lightning fast reflexes had allowed him to duck out of the way when one of her flailing blows had nearly severed his arm. This drawback did have a silver lining however in that the blow which would have disabled the Elf ended up severing the main vein in the neck of an Orc who was going in for a killing blow with Celebrimbor. When Celebrimbor realised who his saviour was, he grinned widely at Kim and saluted her with his dripping sword.

The bodies of the dead Orcs gradually piled up around them, but it was a large war party and even despite the deadly accuracy of the archers firing from the tree branches, the enemy kept coming. It was just as yet another wave of snarling creatures pounded through the trees that a gasp of dismay was wrenched out from Erestor. Gary stopped and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his jacket and stared in the direction that Erestor was looking.

Somehow the Orcs had managed to separate the High King from his commanders. He stood alone with a circle of at least twenty enemy surrounding him. He looked fair and fierce as he swept his spear Aeglos around in a scything motion and the tip shone like silver fire as it flashed back and forth. But it was not enough. As those in front fell more joined the fray to take their place.

Gary searched around desperately for sight of Cirdan, Celeborn or Glorfindel, but they had their own troubles. For the moment he, Erestor, Kim and Jim were the only ones who could possibly reach the beleaguered King.

_Gather them to you._ The voice in his ear was firm. _I will give what aid I can. It is vital that Ereinion Gil-galad survives this battle._

"What? Who? Who are you?" Gary's tone was bewildered and, not fully realising that the voice was disembodied and inside his head, he spoke out loud.

"What are you talking about?" Kim stared into Gary's eyes only to find that they were strangely distant. She clutched at his sleeve. "Gary, what's wrong? Who are you talking to?" Jim had also stopped what he was doing and drawn closer to them.

Gary stared at her uncomprehendingly and now Jim was growing alarmed. Kim shook Gary's arm and was only stopped by Erestor who shook his head and gently pulled her away. His dark eyes narrowed as he realised that Gary was in communion with someone.

_Speak to me through the link._ Eonwe used all of his considerable power to make the link between him and his other self stronger_. There is not enough time to explain. Allow me to help you. Open yourself up to me._

_It's you, the one from my dreams. _Gary whispered to himself. _Who are you?_

_There is no time. I am Eonwe, Herald of Lord Manwe Sulimo and I am also you, or rather you are me in a future form. Your…my…memories have been erased to enable you to function in your time, if we complete the link then you will remember most of it, but it is a risk we must take. I cannot come to you physically, but I can lend you my spirit. However you must be willing. _

_What do I do? _Gary felt strange, as though he was really talking to himself.

_I will do the hardest part, all you need to do is relax and let me in._

Nobody was really sure what happened next. One minute Gary was plain Gary Matthews, a mortal and an officer in Her Majesty's Armed Forces, the next he was a tall, mighty, glowing Maiar and there was no doubt in anyone's mind in that moment as to his true identity.

The Orcs fled before the enraged Maia who cut them down before they had time to reach any kind of safety. Once they had got over the shock of seeing the transformation, he was followed into battle by Erestor, Jim, Celebrimbor and a totally bewildered Kim. Not that they had much to kill since Gary had effortlessly disposed of everyone in his way in a matter of seconds.

Melannen, Rion and Noruthalion saw the transformation and were delighted.

"It _is_ Eonwe." Whispered Rion as he watched his idol prove his expertise in battle.

"Indeed it is." Melannen agreed. A wide grin split his face.

Noruthalion said nothing, he merely watched in wonder and admiration as the Maia sent Orc after Orc to their deaths. Very few of the war party survived, but those who did took the opportunity of escaping before those terrible eyes and even more terrible sword-arm alighted on them.

Finally Gary/Eonwe stood before a bemused, but grateful Gil-galad who had despatched a fair few all on his own. "Lord Eonwe, I presume?" He said in a slightly shaky voice and bowed. "I am in your debt my Lord." Gary/Eonwe bowed in return.

Kim had caught up with Gary by this time. She grabbed a handful of his combat jacket and tugged hard so that he was forced to look down at her. "Are you nuts?" She scolded. "You could have got yourself killed for god's sake."

In the midst of the carnage, Gary/Eonwe reached out and drew her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and then tilted her chin up and looked deeply into her eyes. He did not sever the link with Eonwe and nor did Eonwe try to do it from his side. Instead he sought Kim's mouth and kissed her, lifting her clear off her feet in order to do it. Both Gary and Eonwe were one at that moment in time and both felt the love and desire that flowed between man and woman. They stayed locked together for what seemed like an eternity and when the kiss finally ended Gary's memories of his earlier life had returned in full.

Light silvery laughter and murmurs of approval came from the Elves who were witnessing the event. Jim was grinning from ear to ear.

Kim looked up at him in disbelief. She felt completely numb. He had just kissed her in front of everyone and she looked such a mess. She bit her lip and looked down at her gore-stained clothes. It was in her hair, on her nose and smeared over her chin "You haven't got a mark on you. No blood, nothing and I'm covered in it." She said in a cross little voice.

Gary/Eonwe gently drew her back into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head for a moment, then he lifted her chin again and smiled tenderly at her. "I don't care. You look beautiful." He said softly.

She rested her head against his chest and sighed. It was as if she had been holding her breath in all of her life and had just been given permission to exhale. "So do you." She whispered finally.

Soft applause sounded all around them and Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in exile, gently clapped an approving hand on Gary/Eonwe's shoulder as he walked past to count the wounded and re-organise his army.

* * *

Olorin came to the door of the healing tent. The slim knife, now dripping with black Orc blood hung loosely from one hand. He witnessed the scene between Gary and Kim and sent a silent message to Lady Varda Elentari far away in the west. 

_Can I come back home now?_

Lady Varda's laughter was like tinkling golden bells in his head. F_oolish Olorin. _She chided gently. _They have found each other, that is true, but they still need your help to get back to their own time with the modern weapons of war. Even more so now. Although there are now two Eonwes, they are now both complete in themselves and it is even more imperative that they remain apart. He will know you for who you are, even if the others don't. Glorfindel will also certainly recognise you for what you are once he has a closer look. You and Eonwe must now speak to Gil-galad. Things that have perforce gone unspoken must now be brought to the surface._

Olorin bowed his head. _As you command my Lady._

One of the young healers touched his arm and he turned to smile at her.

"We are in your debt. If you had not acted so swiftly there would be one less of us. But now you must let us re-stitch your wound and you must also rest." For some reason she did not seem to question whether he understood her or not.

He grinned and allowed himself to be led back into the tent.

Things were beginning to unravel.

* * *


	26. In the lap of the Gods

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 2 

**Notes to reviewers:** Thanks again for any reviews, they are always appreciated, but as always, please just read and enjoy. If you do that, then my objective is achieved! I make no apologies for the first two BvTS quotes at the beginning, since they are both wonderful comments on the problems of immortals falling in love with mortals, which is relevant stuff for Gary and Kim. The last one just struck me as being about life, what happens and how you deal with it.

**Ellfine:** Thanks for answering my email setting my mind at rest and sending that poignant and wonderful email from someone who has seen things after Katrina firsthand. My thoughts are with everyone in that area now and for the foreseeable future. I have made a donation to the American Red Cross for those affected by Hurricane Katrina since I am so far away I can't offer more concrete assistance. The plights of all of those involved and trapped in New Orleans can't be ignored, although members of your own government are trying hard to do that.

**Chapter 26 - In the lap of the Gods**

"Well... I guess I was kinda new to being around humans before... but now I've seen a lot more, gotten to know people, seen what they're capable of. And I guess I just realized how amazingly screwed up they all are. I mean really, really screwed up in a monumental fashion. And they have no purpose that unites them, so they just drift around blundering through life until they die. Which they- they know is coming, yet every single one of them is surprised when it happens to them. They're incapable of thinking about what they want beyond the moment. They kill each other, which is clearly insane. And yet, here's the thing - when it's something that really matters, they fight. I mean, they're lame morons for fighting, but they do! They never... they never quit. So I guess I will keep fighting too." - **Anya (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)**

"To be frank, I don't see any future in store for you two. You're immortal, and she's not. It's not easy. I married my wife Edna Mae in 1903 and I was with her right until the end. Not a pretty scene, those last few years. Wrinkled and senile and cursing me for my youth, it wasn't our happiest time. And let's not forget the fact that any moment of true happiness will turn you evil. What kind of life can you offer her? I don't see a lot of Sunday picnics in the offing. I see skulking in the shadows, hiding from the sun... she's a blossoming young girl. You want to keep her from the life she should have till it's passed her by and, God I think that's a little selfish. Is that what you came back from Hell for? Is that your greater purpose?"  
- **Mayor Richard Wilkins III (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)**

"Bottom line is, even if you see them coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So, what are we, helpless? Puppets? Nah. The big moments are gonna come, you can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are." - **Whistler (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)**

"What are you going to do now?"

Gary registered the Chief's matter of fact voice, but did not look up. "I have no idea." He said quietly.

"That's quite an admission coming from you." Olorin sank down onto the soft moss beside Gary and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Modern version or not, I don't think I've ever heard you admit to not knowing something."

Gary gave him a quizzical smile. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm a pompous know-it-all?"

Olorin chuckled. "If the cap fits…" He said slyly and ducked his head when Gary threw a twig at him. "Can he hear you? Or you him?"

"Now you're just changing the subject to something a lot more contentious." Gary lay back on the moss, folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the cloudless blue sky.

Gil-galad's battle group had stopped after a day's fast-paced march in order to recharge themselves. Advance scouting parties had been sent out to locate the Orc and his burden, but although they had reported finding his last hideout on top of a small hill not a league away from the earlier battle, there was no sign of him.

The scouts had tracked him as far as a stretch of open ground studded with sparse bush and long wiry grass. As far as they could tell from the signs and flattened grass, he seemed to have been making a run for it towards the Forest of Brethil which lay like a long low deep purple line along the horizon against a backdrop of a massive saw-toothed range of snow capped mountains. Once in the forest, it was possible he could lose his pursuers, for a while at least.

Of course, since Eonwe and the host of the Valar had only just resumed their own march, the chances of the Orc running into the rearguard of that army were also still very high and it was inevitable that he would have to go to ground again to avoid capture.

Eonwe, the Elves, Gary and the others had an advantage in that now, everything Gary knew, Eonwe knew and vice versa. There was a constant two-way flow of thoughts and feelings between the two and sometimes it was hard for either to figure out where one began and the other ended. So both knew that the Orc Thadak was on the run caught between two fierce armies and the marauding bands of his own kind and desperately needed to find a safe path if he was to achieve his objective.

It wasn't just Gil-galad's scouts he was in danger from, but also the scouts that Eonwe sent out to the rear.

Then, of course, there was Kim.

Both Gary and Eonwe knew exactly what Olorin was referring to when he asked what Gary was going to do now. Both versions also knew that this was no atmosphere in which to build a relationship properly. The very urgent nature of their situation and constant danger was not conducive to courtship.

Eonwe had never been one for flirting and girls; his position as the right-hand man of Lord Manwe Sulimo had put massive restraints on him and in any case there never seemed to be the opportunity to dally with some lovely female. Even when he had fallen for Arien, the never-ending tasks set him by the Valar had quickly put paid to the relationship.

Maia or not, Arien wanted to be wooed and romanced like any other woman, but Eonwe was continually dragged away at pivotal moments in the courtship to dance attendance on the Valar in the Timeless Halls. As a result she had become rapidly irritated with never having her potential lover to herself and eventually sought the company of Tilion who enjoyed chasing her across the sky and flirting with her and never had to rush away at the very magical moment when their lips were about to meet.

Eonwe had duly poured himself wholeheartedly into his work and ignored any of the blandishments offered him by fellow female Maiar or even amongst the Elven maidens who would hone in on him at festivals and spend the evening blushing, peeping through their eyelashes and flirting with him. For him, the act of loving and bonding was a forbidden fruit, something thought about and longed for in the dark reaches of the night, but ultimately not meant for him.

So as far as his future self's budding romance with Kim was concerned, he was bemused and a little alarmed by the strength of the growing emotional bond, but he realised quickly that in the persona of Gary Matthews he had a lot more experience in dealing with the opposite sex. Eonwe felt strangely embarrassed when he realised that as Gary, he had not only flirted, kissed and taken girls out on romantic dinners, he had also indulged himself in lovemaking, and enjoyed every guilt-free minute of it.

The plain and simple fact was, that because his memories of being the Herald of Manwe and a minor Ainur had been suppressed, he had no former emotional baggage to carry around and had therefore been able to do all of the things that a woman would expect from a lover. Now Eonwe was in the peculiar and intriguing position of being envious of the man he wouldn't be for another few-dozen millennia.

Olorin jerked his head in the direction of Gil-galad and his commanders who were in conference. "Shouldn't you be joining in with that?"

Gary chewed on the end of a long piece of grass and surveyed the heavens. "See how blue that sky is? There isn't a cloud in sight."

"Stop evading the issue Major Matthews." Olorin said in the Chief's most formidable tone, usually used to good effect on clerks below the rank of Corporal.

Gary laughed softly. "Spoken like a true Chief Clerk." He turned his head and smiled lazily at Olorin. "Are you presuming to tell the Adjutant and a superior officer what to do?"

"Superior officer my arse." Olorin rolled the last word round on his tongue with relish. He could get rather used to the delightful baseness and flexibility of this English language. "You're a buckshee major, one of a multitude. Everyone knows it's the Senior NCO's who run the British Army."

Gary threw back his head and hooted with laughter and immediately all Elven eyes rested on him. "Precisely my dear Watson. Which is exactly why I am not up _there_ having a conference with _them_."

Olorin frantically accessed the Chief's memories until he found the reference to 'Watson', this being a fictional character in something Chief called a novel. Watson was Dr Watson, close companion of a brilliant detective called Sherlock Holmes. "I always thought it was 'elementary, my dear Watson'." He said slyly. "What are you going to do about Kim?" He asked in a gentler tone.

Gary heaved a sigh. "I honestly don't know. I know I'm falling in love with her, but we don't really know each other properly yet and it's not like I can take her out to a movie and dinner to get to know her. The deference with which the Elves are treating me is also going to dawn on her eventually. This whole 'being two people' thing is going to take a bit of explanation and to be honest, she is still so skittish and unsure of herself emotionally that it might put her off me altogether. I'm not even sure I should be kissing her under the circumstances; it's hardly the environment to conduct a romance in. I don't know whether to just risk it and come clean with her, or play dumb."

"I think it's time we had a serious conversation with Gil-galad." Olorin said quietly, jumping at the heaven-sent opportunity of introducing Lady Varda's suggestion. "The way I see it, we have two problems. Keeping Kim from being upset until we get you all back to the other time period so you can further your relationship and complete the task you have been set by Eru and getting the weapons back so that we can get you all back."

Gary rolled over and got to his feet in one fluid motion. "Well, it's plain to me and my other self that the weapons are a far higher priority at this moment in time. A great deal rests on us getting them back, not least the peace and harmony of Middle-earth." He proffered a helping hand to Olorin who took it with his good arm and allowed his fellow Maia to help him up. "How's your arm feeling?"

Olorin gingerly touched his carefully bandaged forearm. "It's felt better."

Gary grinned at him and the dimples peeped out. "I'm sure it has. Mortal bodies aren't all they're cracked up to be are they?"

Olorin frowned. "I don't know which is more scary. Being in a mortal body which can be hurt or killed, or listening to the uptight, anal Herald of Manwe speak in the modern vernacular, complete with slang words."

"You'll get used to it." Gary/Eonwe patted him on the arm soothingly. "I'm quite sure that the Chief has forgotten more bad modern language and slang than either of us will ever learn in a whole mortal lifetime. Let's go talk to Gil-galad. And Olorin…" He looked back at Olorin, who raised an eyebrow in question. "We will speak later about this 'uptight and anal' matter."

"Oh joy. I can hardly wait." Olorin muttered under his breath.

* * *

**The Timeless Halls of the Valar, Aman**

Manwe looked across at Varda and there was a stricken expression in his normally unclouded blue eyes. "Eonwe pushed aside his own needs and desires to serve us." He whispered. "He thinks that happiness and love are forbidden to him."

"So it would seem."

"Why did he not speak of this to anyone?"

Varda sighed. "And what would you have had him say? That he was sorry, but he could not carry out our wishes because he was too busy wooing the love of his life?" She sat next to Manwe and placed a comforting hand over his. "Eonwe knows well where his loyalties lie. Like our own, his duties were set down before any of us sprang from the music. The fault does not lie with him, but with us. We spent so much time on other pursuits, such as bringing the Eldar to Valinor, bringing light when the Trees were destroyed, and the Silmarils. Even Middle-earth has had a large part of our attention." She rose to her feet gracefully and walked over to one of the unglazed windows. "We were so busy casting our vision elsewhere, that we neglected the hurt and suffering that lay right under our noses. We neglected to notice Eonwe's pain and we did the same with Feanor and look what happened there."

"He never seemed to let anything disturb him." Manwe said mournfully. "He is always there when he is needed and has ever done our bidding without question. We have failed him…I have failed him."

Varda turned from the window and gazed intently at her sorrow-filled husband. "Yes, and it seems that sometime in the future Eru himself will seek to repair our omissions. Have you noticed how much more contented his future self is? He smiles and laughs a lot more. He is not afraid to openly show his love for the young mortal woman." She sighed again. "We have overlooked things which should not have been overlooked and over thought things which should have had lesser attention. We were too busy trying to organise the bliss-filled lives of the Eldar here and gave no thought to the suffering on Middle-earth and now we send an army, but to do what? Alleviate suffering by causing more in the name of ridding ourselves of Morgoth? Would that we had taken heed of Tulcas when he said that Melkor should not have been freed. Nearly all of our ills have been from bad management of Arda's affairs and still we look to our brave Herald to make it right in our name. I wonder what will be our epitaph in times to come? That we failed miserably in our charge to take care of Arda in the name of Eru Iluvator?"

A soft voice interrupted their conversation. "I think our epitaph is more likely to be the fact that the Middle-earth Eonwe will inhabit in the future will no longer remember us or what we stood for. I for one can think of no worse fate than to sink into obscurity so complete that none alive remember the Valar, the Eldar or their deeds, good and bad." Namo, Lord of Mandos stood at the entrance to the audience chamber, his dark robes and sombre features made a startling contrast to the sparkling white of the marble walls and floor.

Manwe shuddered. He rose from the marble bench he was seated on and faced the Feanturi. "Have you come to tell us that this doom is what awaits us?" He demanded of the Doomsman of the Valar.

Namo did not even so much as blink at the mildly hostile tone in Manwe's voice. "My guest tells me that, apart from a few tales written by another mortal, nothing remains of any of the achievements of our kind. Devotion that should be granted to Eru has been pushed aside and devotion to wealth and success has taken its place. Although some do still remember the act of Creation, something called science has provided more believable explanations for the mass of mortals than blind belief in a greater plan or in the music."

Manwe made a noise of disgust and joined his wife at the window. "Then why do we continue this charade?" He asked grimly.

"Because we must. It is what we undertook to do for Eru when the music began and because there is still hope. Eru would not have sent Eonwe to a future Middle-earth unless he thought there was hope." Namo's voice was calm and washed over the troubled Manwe like a healing balm. "We are in obscurity in their time, this is true, but we are not totally forgotten by many. They merely believe that we are characters from some epic tale."

"Then Eonwe's task in the future is to do with this?" Hope had replaced the look of dread in Varda's starlight-filled eyes.

Namo nodded. "I believe he is there to…ah…how shall I put it? Put the magic back into Middle-earth. Chief Knowles' words, not mine, but no less appropriate for all that. In their time Arda has been bereft of the presence of the Ainur for far too long. Eru decided that it was time to remind them of what they have long forgotten."

Manwe cast his vision eastwards towards Middle-earth; with the presence of his wife beside him he could see much further than usual. He watched the light banter between the modern people in that ancient world and for the first time in days a light smile touched his lips. "If there are more mortals like them in their time, then perhaps all is not lost." He said softly, almost to himself.

Namo allowed a frosty glimmer of a smile to reach his lips. "Indeed not. Trust your future Herald as you trust him now. I think that some good can come from Morgoth's interference in Middle-earth's affairs. It has brought the future Eonwe together in a union with someone who will at last give him the peace and love he deserves and it will allow our Eonwe to understand that he is allowed to let go of his duties sometimes. I think they will learn much from each other."

"What of the orc with the weapons?" Enquired Manwe.

"His path is not clear to him." Namo's dry tone held a note of distinct amusement, but he said nothing else.

Manwe laughed. "Your doing I suppose? Shame on you for interfering Namo."

The Lord of Mandos raised one delicately arched dark eyebrow. "I? T'was not my doing Manwe. I am merely playing a game called chess with my unexpected guest."

"Game is it?" Manwe shook his head in mock despair. "Using what as the pieces might I ask?"

Varda could have sworn that the usually sombre Namo actually winked at Manwe before leaving the Timeless Halls without another word crossing his lips.

_He seems to be learning some remarkably bad habits from his mortal guest, or perhaps it was just a trick of the light._ She mused to herself.

* * *

If Gil-galad was astounded by Gary's sudden fluency in Sindarin, he certainly didn't give any sign of it. Instead he sat behind the table and listened without comment as Gary brought him up to date with the situation. His intent gaze never once left the Maia's face. 

Beside him sat Cirdan and Celeborn, both of whose expressions revealed nothing either. Glorfindel leant casually against a wooden chest, his arms folded across his chest and a laconic smile on his face. His sky blue eyes had flickered quizzically from Gary across to Olorin and back again. Olorin merely sat with a faint smile on the face that did not belong to him and completely ignored the looks. Celebrimbor sat on another wooden box and watched Gary with grey eyes that shone with a lambent light.

Gary finally sat back and cast a glance around those present. "Comments, opinions and thoughts gentlemen?" He asked softly as though he was seated in the briefing room in a modern military base.

Finally Cirdan spoke. "How much of what Eonwe thinks and known is known to you and how much do you remember of your earlier existence?"

Gary hesitated a moment and then gave him the swift beautiful smile that had mesmerised Rion and generally set Kim's heart to fluttering. "We are one and the same Lord Nowe." He said mildly. "Our thoughts were initially separated by a thin veil which clouded my memory, but I remember everything now. I remember commanding the host and I can recall each and every action that I took…with the exception of some of course. Everything he does, I know about and vice versa." He rubbed his smooth chin ruefully.

A smile tugged at the corners of Cirdan's mouth. "It has been a long time since anyone addressed me by that name…"

Celeborn stood up and came to stand directly in front of Gary. "If what you say is true, then you know the outcome of this war and much more." He interrupted.

"Are you asking me to tell you what is in your future?" Gary spoke softly, but there was a sudden steely edge to his voice that wasn't lost on anyone there. Olorin glanced sharply at him, but there was no ire in the Maia's eyes, just firmness. "You know I cannot do that. What would it serve? In any case it would cause the very troubles that Eru and now Lord Manwe and my other self are concerned about. In the modern world my presence has a name. A modern scientist would call my being here at the same time as my earlier self a 'paradox', and anything I do here could cause the future to alter completely including mine in that future time."

Gil-galad frowned. "Paradox? I am not familiar with such a word. It is not Sindarin or Quenyan or even Westron."

"No." Gary smiled faintly. "Its origins are in an ancient language called Latin. Few people, other than scholars and academics, actually speak it in our future time although it is still often taught in schools."

"What does it mean, this paradox?"

"It has many meanings. It can mean a statement that seems contradictory on the surface but often expresses a deeper truth. The comment, "All men destroy the things they love" is a paradox. In the case of my being here it is an apparent break in temporal causality where cause of an event follows or appears to follow the event itself." Gary explained. "My very presence here breaks the laws of temporal causality, as does the presence of my companions. Everything we do here, every word we speak puts your future and the future of Middle-earth in question and jeopardy. It is imperative that we go back to where we belong as soon as we can and that means recovering our weapons."

Gil-galad sat for a moment, only the deep frown creasing his brow revealing his attempts to absorb this strange information. After a while of pondering he finally sighed and got to his feet. "I think I understand. This is why Lord Eonwe wished you to be contained and to come into contact with as few people as possible."

Celeborn had paled. "Those weapons…if Morgoth gets his hands on them." His voice trailed away.

"Then it will be end of the Host of the Valar." Gary said quietly. "They deal death at a furious speed, not even the armour would stop their path. The field outside of Thangorodrim would be strewn with the dead. The healers of this time are the best of their kind, but they are unused to dealing with the kind of injuries that projectile weapons make in flesh and bone at high velocity. Even the modern military doctors had to develop their own treatments and surgeries for such injuries."

"Then our path is clear." Gil-galad said heavily. "We must re-double our efforts to regain your weapons and with that in mind, this, I believe, belongs with you." He gestured to Celebrimbor who reached down and reluctantly handed the weapon Erestor and the others had found to Gary who took it.

The Elves watched with fascinated interest as Gary automatically made the weapon safe and handed it to Olorin who rested it across his knee. Gary turned to Celebrimbor. "Are you as talented a smith as your grandfather?" He asked with a smile.

Celebrimbor's light silvery laughter bubbled out of him. "You do not speak of him with anger in your voice." He said wryly. "I take this as a promising sign for the future. Yes, I can smith with the best of them, although my grandfather had a special talent. He was not named the Spirit of Fire for nothing."

"Then if I recall correctly there was a small Elven settlement west of here with a forge."

Celebrimbor nodded. "I remember it well. It was used many times as a sort of way station for travellers to rest and mend their weapons. It has been long abandoned though. The Elven smith who ran it was forced out by the bands of marauding Orcs and headed for marginally safer northern climes near the coast."

"Could you make the forge usable?"

Celebrimbor shrugged and nodded. "I imagine so, although it is in quite an exposed spot."

"With Lord Gil-galad's leave I can post warriors there with you to defend it." Glorfindel spoke for the first time.

"It shall be so." Gil-galad said firmly. He looked at Gary. "But only if you tell us what you intend Celebrimbor to do."

Gary felt in his pocket and took out a small torpedo shaped brass object. "If I tell you what the components are of this, I need to know if we can obtain them and whether you can craft more of them."

Celebrimbor took the object and stared at it in wonder. "It is one of the projectiles that fits the weapon is it not?" His voice was laced with excitement.

Gary nodded. "That it is." He lifted up the weapon. "This is an L85A2, 5.56 calibre assault rifle, the standard weapon for British soldiers. It fires something that is called a round or perhaps more commonly known as a bullet. There is a very simple composition behind the round itself and it shouldn't be beyond Elven talents to come up with something similar. The method for propelling the projectile is equally simple and I think Olorin will be able to help with the substance that provides the charge." He looked at Olorin questioningly.

"Indeed." He murmured. "I will need to find potassium nitrate, sulphur and carbon. At least these are the names Chief Knowles has for the substances, I believe I know them by other names. It can be done, but the casting of the bullet must be accurate or it will not fire through the barrel."

Celebrimbor straightened proudly. "And you will find me equal to the task. I will not let you down." He grinned at Gary and held up the small inoffensive looking brass cased round. "May I take this to examine it?"

Gary laughed. "Please do, we can talk about it a little later."

"You have still not told us why you want this." Gil-galad interposed quietly.

"Although it is fairly clear to me that you wish to make the weapons usable. But we cannot use them. Eonwe was quite clear in this and I agree with him."

"As do I." Gary smiled grimly. "You cannot use them, but we can. All of us, even Jim, are trained in weapons. We can use them with impunity and to good effect. This weapon has an effective battle range of eight hundred metres, much further than an archer can fire accurately. All we need is to find Thadak and either Olorin or I can take him out and retrieve the other weapons."

"Olorin can?" Glorfindel's golden brows met his hairline.

Olorin sighed and chuckled. "Aye, I am afraid 'tis true Lord Glorfindel. The peaceable, gentle Maia whose deadliest weapon is his curiosity and love for living things has become what the people of the future call a 'sniper', someone who kills others accurately at great distances. I am learning many things from Chief Knowles and his memories. Some of them pleasant and others not so pleasant."

"As much as I deplore the use of these weapons here in Middle-earth, I believe that you have the right of it Lord Eonwe. We would have to come quite close to the Orc to kill him and although I cannot see that this task is beyond our warriors, I do feel that it is rather more fitting if you and your people take care of it. We will, of course, provide whatever support you require, on the understanding that we will act on our own account if necessary."

Gary smiled at the young High King. "Agreed, but I do have a request to make of you."

"Of course. What is the request?"

"It may sound strange, but I would prefer it if you referred to me by the name given to me for my task in future Middle-earth. Gary or Major Matthews will do, but I would prefer Gary. I find it in myself to wish to keep my two selves as separate as possible and this would help greatly."

A wide grin split Gil-galad's face. "It shall be so. I must admit to feeling uncomfortable about calling you Eonwe. Garee it shall be."

"What of the three warriors from the host?" Cirdan interposed smoothly. "They are confused as it is. Do you intend to explain the situation to them?"

Gary pursed his lips. "It's unfortunate that they have become involved to the extent they have, but that is more due to extenuating circumstances than any kind of error. Eonwe…my earlier self…has obviously had to make a judgement call on this whilst not in full possession of the facts. " He pondered for a moment whilst the Elves looked on silently. "I think the best thing would be for me to speak with them separately and explain. It may be that they then choose to travel back to the host and continue on north Thangorodrim." He turned to Gil-galad. "What are your feelings on this?"

Gil-galad gnawed at his bottom lip. "I can find no other more sensible solution. Speaking with them directly would seem to be the best idea. I will send for them now and we will ensure that you are not disturbed. In the meantime we will arrange for Celebrimbor and a small group to travel back to the unused forge." He looked at Celeborn. "Do you remember that small band of Dwarves who were resident in Sirion when we left?"

Celeborn nodded, he could see where this was going. "I will make contact with Galadriel to see if they are still there. Do you want her to ask for their assistance? We will probably need to send an escort for them. They are at least two days' march from here, so the sooner the better, although if they meet with Celebrimbor at the forge that will only be about one days' march."

Gil-galad nodded. "Please do so. I think that their expertise will be invaluable when Celebrimbor starts to manufacture your… bullets or whatever they are called Garee. They should also be able to assist Olorin in finding the substances _he _requires."

"I will send out more scouting parties." Cirdan also stood up.

"Lord Cirdan." Gary's soft tones stopped the shipwright and he turned to look at the Maia questioningly. "Make the scouting parties smaller and more of them. Get them to cover a wide area right up to the Forest of Brethil. I have reason to believe that the Orc has not been able to leave the immediate area out of fear of being apprehended, not just by us, but by his own kind."

Cirdan gave Gary and searching look and then nodded and left without further question.

"Do you need to be at the forge as well?" Gary directed his next question to Olorin who nodded.

"I imagine so. If I have read Chief's thoughts correctly we will need to render down and purify the Potassium Nitrate and this will need great heat. Once the forge is fired it will provide sufficient heat for the purpose, not to mention carbon. In addition, if the dwarves are going to be there, then it will be easier for me to discuss the other substances with them." He smiled at Gary. "With your permission sir, I will accompany Celebrimbor and the escort to the forge."

Gary grinned. "Permission granted Sergeant Major, but I'd like you and I to talk with Jim and Kim before you head out okay?"

Olorin chuckled and threw up a sketchy salute, made more awkward by the fact that he did it with his left rather than his right hand. "Yes sir.

"Remind me to offer you some instruction in paying compliments to officers WO2 Knowles as well as a lecture as to why you shouldn't call an officer uptight and anal." He said with mock severity. "I don't know how they did things in the Royal Marines, but the Fusiliers do it differently."

Olorin winked and smiled broadly. "Well, what can you expect from people who wear chicken feathers behind their cap badges?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Chief."

* * *


	27. Discussions

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter Two 

**Chapter 27 - Discussions**

"Funny. 'Cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of... and all I see is six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. Who's not crazy? Look around. Everyone's drinking, smoking, shooting up... shooting each other, or just plain screwing their brains out 'cause they don't want 'em anymore. I'm crazy? Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind. 'Cause at least I admit the world makes me nuts."  
**Glory (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)**

"I knew it. I knew it. Well, not in the sense of having the slightest idea, but I knew there was something I didn't know."  
- **Willow (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) **

The Timeless Halls of the Valar, Oiolosse, Aman

"What are you up to Manwe?" The words were spoken in a tone reminiscent of clear water crashing down a rock face which eddied away into a rock pool and emptied by means of a swift-moving silver stream.

_Ulmo. _Manwe heaved an inward sigh. He had rather hoped to resolve the problem of the three mortals and their Maia companion before involving the rest of the Valar. He pasted a brilliant welcoming smile on his face and turned to his greatest friend and ally.

"Ulmo!" He said brightly. Perhaps a little too brightly because the icy silver and pale blue hue of the Lord of the Water's corporeal form darkened slightly. He immediately toned the brightness down but a little too late, Ulmo's suspicions were even more aroused. Notwithstanding, he rose from the marble bench where he had been greeting the thousands of birds of all sizes who flocked daily to the Tower for his blessing and held out welcoming arms. "It has been too long since you last honoured us with a visit my old friend."

Ulmo would have gone red with embarrassment had his skin been capable of such a colour, as it was he accepted Manwe's embrace and harrumphed loudly. "Ah…yes…well, you know how much I hate taking physical form. I honestly do not know how you and the others do it, day in and day out."

"Well sit down anyway." Manwe indicated one of the marble benches and gestured to one of the silent ever-present Maia who came forward with a tray of light slightly sparkling wine and fruit. "What brings you here?"

Ulmo lifted the clear glass and after absently swirling the light golden wine around the bowl, took an appreciative sip. "Teleri? One of Olwe's special reserves from the coastal vineyards no doubt. A slightly peachy flavour. Very nice."

"Indeed it is." Manwe agreed. He fervently hoped that Ulmo's reason for travelling to Oiolosse was just social, but somehow he rather doubted it. He felt like he was paddling frantically backwards against a fast forward flowing current. "Eonwe brought it back with him as a gift for Varda and myself from Lord Olwe the last time he visited Aqualonde." In the next instant he mentally kicked himself for mentioning the absent Herald for he had no doubt at all that Eonwe was the reason for Ulmo's visit.

"Humph. Very nice and since you mention him, it is about Eonwe I have come."

Manwe only just managed to stifle a groan. His bright smile faltered until it was a mere twitch of his mouth.

"Ulmo, how lovely to see you." His wife's silvery tones interrupted a very uneasy moment and he heaved a sigh of relief, which was not lost on a friend and colleague who knew him almost as well as he knew himself.

Ulmo stood up and folded the Lady of Starlight in his arms. "A pleasure and delight to behold your loveliness, as always my dear." Varda laughed as he released her and lifted one of her slender hands to his cool lips.

She lightly tapped him on the cheek. "Oh pish-posh. You and your flattery Ulmo." Yet her husband gave a wry smile as she blushed a deep rose colour at the Lord of the Sea's attentions. "You would be beholding loveliness every day were you to find a loving mate to share your life with."

Ulmo gave her a sly grin. "I am still waiting with breaking heart full of unrequited love for you my Lady. In any case to whom would I pay my suit? One of those lovely ellyth who are desperately afraid of me, or perhaps one of those silent obedient Maiar females? No, I think not. I am doing very well alone, but while we are on the subject…" He looked over at Manwe who turned his eyes heavenward as if asking for some respite from Iluvator. "What is this I hear about Eonwe becoming involved romantically with a mortal woman? What in Eru's name is he thinking?"

"It is a long story." Manwe shifted uncomfortably on the bench and glanced over at Varda for assistance whereupon she immediately blithely took it upon herself to stroke the glossy feathers of a sparrow that had perched upon the bench back in the hopes of attracting some quality one to one attention from the Lord of the Breath of Arda. The little bird shivered with delight at the attention of Varda Elentari nevertheless.

_You are on your own my beloved._ She sent a silent and very amused message to him. _You might have known Ulmo would hear of it before even the others. Osse wanders the shores of Middle-earth and often has communion with Cirdan. His mate Uinen is present in the rivers and streams. She sees much and reports back to Ulmo. It was only a matter of time before he became aware of the situation._

Ulmo settled further into the bench, drained his wineglass and then held it out for a refill. His steely pale blue gaze transfixed the uncomfortable Manwe.

"I have plenty of time." He said softly.

* * *

**The northern reaches of the Forest of Brethil **

"Ulmo knows."

The brief statement elicited a sigh similar to Manwe's from his Herald. "Oh dear Eru."

Tulcas grinned and examined the blade of his huge shining sword. They had encountered a particularly persistent large band of Orcs who had broken through the outer units of the main army chiefly because of the presence of two Balrogs. It had taken only a short time for Eonwe and Tulcas to dispose of the much-feared Maiar spirits of shadow and flame, but as usual Eonwe had grieved much for his brothers taken in corruption by Morgoth and twisted beyond anything that they were meant to be. The army had struck camp while the scouting parties were sent out once again to gather intelligence. The closer they got to Thangorodrim, the harder the resistance from Morgoth's armies.

The Vala whistled a merry tune under his breath and attacked the already perfect blade with a whetstone while Eonwe sat with his back against a tree stump and watched.

"You will rub that blade clean away if you are not careful." Eonwe remarked. " I suppose it was only a matter of time really."

"Before I rubbed my blade clean away?" Tulcas decided to take the route of the deliberately obtuse.

Eonwe shook his head and chuckled. "No. I meant it was only a matter of time before the other Valar realised that something was amiss."

"I am surprised that Ulmo can hear anything at all with all that water in his ears."

Eonwe gave a snort of laughter. "He doesn't need to personally hear anything with Osse and Uinen constantly reporting on the doings here. It is quite peaceful down there deep in the ocean, even when a storm is raging above." He sighed with reminiscence. "I had to visit him once under the waters with a message from Lord Manwe."

"Do you not wish to know what it is Ulmo knows and is concerned about?" Tulcas asked curiously.

Eonwe shook his head. "Nay, for I already know. It is to do with this wretched romance between my future self and a mortal woman. Lord Ulmo questions the wisdom of allowing me to cleave myself unto a mortal who will eventually grow old and pass beyond the circles of the world whilst I languish grieving and heart-broken." He gave Tulcas a swift beautiful smile and a wink.

"Surrounded by your half-Maiar brood of younglings and no doubt hordes of mewling grandbabies by that time." Tulcas added sagely.

Eonwe nodded absently and his gaze was distant. "Probably, and they will support me in my great grief whilst expecting me to baby-sit when they go off on holiday to the Bahamas." A deep frown creased his brow as he came back to the here and now. "Wait a moment, where did that come from? I do not even know what the Bahamas is. And what exactly is a holiday?"

Tulcas had stopped whetting his blade. "I am more interested in why anyone would want you to sit on the babies. It sounds like a remarkably cruel thing to do. Is it a common practice amongst modern mortal man?"

"That was not I." Eonwe laughed softly. "My other self is making his presence felt again. According to him baby-sitting is a word to describe the task of a carer or a nurse, a holiday is a period of time during which someone is allowed to rest from their usual labours and the Bahamas are exotic islands with beautifully scantily dressed women, bars, wine and a drink called a cocktail."

"It sounds like my kind of place." Tulcas said cheerfully. "You will have to invite me over to Middle-earth once you get there in the future, we can have some fun. Although I would hesitate to taste a drink made out of a cock's tail."

Eonwe sniffed. "A cocktail is drink made out of a combination of other drinks, not from the tail of a cock. And as you have so often pointed out, _I_ will be too busy getting many babies on my mortal wife to have fun."

"_That_ could be fun too." Tulcas pointed out with a sly smile.

"Well if it sounds such a pleasant prospect to you perhaps we can persuade Lord Manwe to ask Iluvator if you can go in my stead. Personally, I think the modern Middle-earth sounds disturbing and terrifying."

"Where is your sense of adventure Eonwe?" Tulcas demanded, although there was a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

"It is apparently buried underneath my heavy burden of responsibility and inherent good sense, but I have it on good authority that it will emerge once I arrive in the future Middle-earth." Eonwe replied dryly. He got to his feet and stretched. "Time to do our rounds old man."

"Old man? _Old man_?" Tulcas spluttered indignantly. "I will have you know that I can keep up with the best of them, you young whippersnapper. In any case, I am not that much older than you."

"That is not what one of the young elleth healers said when she referred to you in conversation the other day." Eonwe said mischievously. "She called you the 'elderly Valar with the silver hair', although she did look a little worried afterwards. I told her that the Valar were indeed very ancient and much revered for their wisdom which was as a result of their great age."

A number of startled Elven warriors subsequently found themselves witness to the 'elderly Valar' roaring with mock indignation and chasing the long-legged and swift Herald of Manwe full pelt across the camp. Ripples of laughter followed the progress of the unlikely pair.

Curunir looked up from a conference with Finarfin and shook his head disapprovingly. "There they go again. You would think that a Vala and a Maiar of their importance would at least comport themselves with _some_ dignity in front of the warriors."

Finarfin followed his gaze and smiled. "I think it is rather nice that they can joke with each other and make others laugh in the process. The warriors respect them for that ability. They can laugh when it is needed and their expertise, leadership and valour on the field of battle is unequalled anywhere. I and all of the host would willingly follow them into the jaws of the Enemy's lair itself."

"Eonwe does not behave in such an inappropriate fashion on Valinor." Curunir said testily. "At least there he behaves with the dignity and good sense befitting the Herald of Manwe."

"He is not at war there and _is _aware that here, in the middle of a war, the good humour and morale of his troops needs to be constantly boosted and upheld." Finarfin reproved mildly. "I find nothing to complain of in his demeanour and a little teasing and joking never harmed anyone."

Curunir paid no attention to him, his dark enmity-filled gaze still rested on Tulcas and Eonwe who were now doing their usual rounds, speaking with the warriors, joking with them and reassuring them. In a flash of sudden foresight Finarfin found himself wondering about the loyalty of this brooding Maia. _He could stand some watching._ Finarfin decided. _There is something about him that is more foul than fair and it bodes ill for the future._

Finarfin resolved to keep a weather eye on Aule's Maia.

* * *

**The march of Ereinion Gil-galad and his small army, approaching the western reaches of the Forest of Brethil.**

Kim watched Gary ride ahead of her and luxuriated in every beautiful square inch of him, but part of her wanted to hate him for doing everything so well. He rode straight-backed, yet easily, on the horse's back and she envied him his expert control of the beast. She, on the other hand, sat gingerly on her horse, sweat-slicked hands gripping the horse's mane with a death grip in spite of the fact that this was an Elven steed and, once persuaded to carry a mortal, would never have let her fall. The insides of her thighs ached with the effort of clenching them against the flank of the horse to stop herself from sliding off and her jaw ached from clenching her teeth with the effort. Sweat ran in rivulets down her face and left an uncomfortable itchy trickle down the middle of her back, yet she grimly and silently struggled on.

All in all, she was not a natural horsewoman. The closest she had ever come to horses was on holiday once with her parents and that had been a patent disaster since, whilst showing his young daughter just how little she had to fear from horses by patting one of the horses in a nearby field on the nose, said horse decided that he didn't like being patronised. An eight year old Kim watched in horror and terror as the beast bared a monstrous set of yellow teeth and took a lump out of her father's shoulder. After that she was too terrified to go near the animals, so the fact that Melannen, Jim and Gary managed to persuade her to mount her own horse was a huge achievement for her.

"Try to relax Kim." Jim, another one she had put at the top of her hit list for doing things well, rode up and smoothly swung his horse alongside her.

"I _am _relaxed." She ground out between clenched teeth. "This is as relaxed as I get, okay?" Then she realised that Jim was only trying to help and tried to make reparation for snapping. "I'm sorry Jim. It's not that I don't like horses. I'm just frightened of them. I can feel all that suppressed power underneath me and I just know that if this horse decided to take off, it wouldn't matter what I did, I wouldn't be able to stop it."

The horse's ears twitched and she felt the silken tail swish behind her as it warded off a fly. She was utterly convinced that the horse could hear and understand everything she said, and if it understood that then it knew she was scared shitless and was only waiting for the right moment to get rid of its terrified, unwelcome burden.

"It won't do that Kim." Jim spoke soothingly. "And even if it did, do you think we would all stand by and watch it careering off into the wild blue yonder with you hanging on for dear life by one foot?"

"There's nothing for one foot to hang on to." She said miserably and wiped her sweaty face on her sleeve. "No stirrups, no reins, abso-bloody-lutely nothing."

Jim made an all encompassing gesture with his arm. "I don't think they need them Kim, so they wouldn't have had riding tack with them."

"Well fucking bully for them. I am not a bloody Elf. I need something to hold onto, like handles or something. I don't even know why he's interested in me. I've been nothing but a problem since we got here. I look dreadful, my skin is blotchy, my hair's a stringy mess and I feel like I stink to high heaven. I've even thrown my guts up over him." A breath shuddered out of her as she looked around at the pristine shining Elves, male and female. "Those women are beautiful Jim. Compared to them it looks like I fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down."

Jim choked back his laughter. "I take it by 'he' you mean our fearless leader?"

She grimaced. "Who else? Look at him. Mr Bloody Perfection. He looks gorgeous and quite a few of the females here simper and bat their eyelashes when he looks their way."

"Which he neither notices nor cares about." Jim gently interrupted the flow.

The face she turned to the young policemen shocked him with its agonised expression. "But that's the kind of woman he needs, not some monumental fuck-up like me. I'm no good with men, never have been. They talk and I lose the power of speech. I was the one who sat on the chairs at dances and watched all the prettier, more popular girls get the boys." She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Why does he want me? I've asked myself that a million times since the kiss two days ago."

"And what answer are you getting?"

She gnawed at her bottom lip for a moment and then looked up at him with tear drenched eyes. "That he's only interested because we're all stuck together. He won't flirt with the Elven women because he knows we'll have to go home eventually. If we get back to our own time, then he'll have the pick of the young pretty girls and forget about me."

Jim's heart contracted with sympathy. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. "Kim, you _are_ pretty and you're not old. I think I know my own sex and the look in Gary's eyes when he looks at you tells me the exact opposite of what you're saying. Okay so you're not an expert horsewoman and maybe you're not the most able soldier out in the field, but everyone has to learn and by your own admission you've always been someone who sat in an office. Neither Gary nor the Chief expect you to be Action Woman. You've done pretty damn well considering and they both know it. I know it too. Gary should think himself bloody lucky that he's got you. I hope I find someone as nice as you."

"But the elves…" She persisted.

Jim wouldn't have any of it. "The Elves are beautiful, remote, other-worldly and very alien Kim. I'm sure they don't seem that way to each other, but to us lowly mortals they are. I'm sure that they have wonderful marriages and relationships with each other, but I could no more imagine being in bed with one of them and making passionate love than I could doing it with Bertie here." He patted his horse's neck and was rewarded by a shiver of pleasure and an approving snort. "In fact I think I could probably imagine that more." He chuckled. "I can't believe I just said that."

"Bertie?" Kim raised her eyebrow and gave a giggle.

Jim had the grace to look ashamed. "Well they did say what he was called, but I can't pronounce it so I decided to call him Bertie. Anyway, he likes the name, don't you boy?"

He patted the horse and gently scratched one of its long silken ears. Bertie gave a soft whinny which made Gary, who was conversing with the tall silver Elf called Keleborn, turn around and look at them. He winked at Kim who blushed fiery red but managed to smile back at him.

"See?" Jim said softly. "The only woman Gorgeous Gary can see is you."

She blushed and looked down at her hands. To her surprise she wasn't clutching the mane so hard that she was pulling it out by the roots any more. In fact she had relaxed considerably since her conversation with Jim had started. "I hope you're right. I just feel a bit out on a limb, especially since Chief left. Why did he have to go with those others?"

"I think that the tall intense looking elf with the dark hair and very deep grey eyes is a smith. In fact if I remember correctly from the bits of the Silmarillion that I read, he's the grandson of a very famous and notorious Elven smith called Feanor. If he is, then it's more than probable that Gary has asked him to try and craft some bullets for the weapons."

Kim looked a bit taken aback. "Is that possible? I mean bullets are modern things aren't they?"

"Bullets are just small round balls in brass casings and a small charge to ensure that they are projected out of the gun barrel. As long as he has something to copy, a good smith would be able to produce something that would work fairly effectively." Jim replied. He brushed a low hanging branch away from them both and in doing so caused a light spray of rain droplets to shower over them.

Kim sighed in pleasure. "That was nice. It must have rained here during the night or something." She ran the finger of one hand around her collar line. "It's unnaturally hot and there's no sign of birds or animals which is really weird, just plenty of bloody insects that bite."

"It's funny." Jim said thoughtfully. "When the tsunami happened in Asia, one of the guys at the station was there on holiday. He said that the day before it happened there was a funny atmosphere. At least he thought it was funny. He said he hadn't seen any seabirds and there was always something, also when he went out on the boat the guy who owned the boat said it was strange that there weren't as many shoals of fish as there normally were."

"Well they do say that animals have an instinct about natural disasters." Kim said quietly. "We've probably lost our own natural instincts about things because we live in a safe civilised society. I remember reading an article about it somewhere, how the survival instinct of fight, freeze or flee has been dulled because we don't need to do it every day."

Jim shifted his seat on the back of the horse slightly. "Yeah, I believe that's true, although as a policeman, we tend to still have some sort of survival instinct, probably because we face the unexpected and potential violence every day. Still I think there's going to be some sort of natural disaster here."

Kim looked around her uneasily. "What kind of disaster?"

"Well I'm not exactly sure what Age we're in here, but if I'm right and this is the First Age, then we might be slap bang in the middle of what Tolkien called the War of Wrath which was when the Valar sent an army to finally defeat Morgoth. It lasted for about fifty years and Morgoth was finally defeated and taken back to Valinor in chains."

"What happened to him after that?" She asked. "And why does this mean a disaster of some sort is on its way?"

"Well they opened a door in the wall of the world and thrust him through into something called the Void and there he will stay until the Dagor Dagorath, the war to end all wars. A bit like what we would call Armageddon. In the aftermath Iluvator bent the world so that the Blessed Realm was unreachable. Only the Elves would be able to sail there if they wanted to. Beleriand, where I believe we are now was deluged under the sea that poured in. Unfortunately Morgoth's lieutenant, a Maia called Sauron gets away after Morgoth is chained and starts all the crap leading up to the War of the Ring. "

"Like the Peter Jackson movies you mean? Lord of the Rings?" Like everyone else Kim had been to see the movies even though she had never read the books. "I could never get into the books. I tried to read the Hobbit when I was younger, but got bored by the third page."

Jim chuckled. "Everyone says that. The movies were okay, but Peter Jackson didn't get everything right. The constraints of movie making I suppose. You should try and read the books, once you understand Tolkien's way of writing the story is very absorbing."

Kim frowned deeply. "Does all of this mean that everything Tolkien wrote was true? Incouding Beleriand going under water?"

"It certainly looks that way, doesn't it?"

* * *

**A small ruined stone farmhouse in the middle of the Forest of Brethil **

The Orc at the top of the Most Wanted list for Middle-earth had stopped at a burnt out stone house deep in the Forest of Brethil.Thadak sniffed the air and looked at the sign and decided that the house had been abandoned for some time, although he could see evidence that his kindred had been there and were responsible. Other signs were less clear. It was probable that Elves and men had passed this way, but only the scuffled footprints of the mortals were evident. Of the residents there was no sign at all, not even a chewed bone remained. Since Orcs did not clean up after themselves he assumed that the people in the house had left long before it was burnt.

Still three and a half of the walls were intact and the back had a partial roof. He had managed to avoid three small scouting parties during the day by the skin of his teeth but now this part of the forest was dark, still and very empty. He lifted out the brace of Coney that he had caught earlier and proceeded to tear one of them apart in order to reach the flesh beneath. Game was well nigh impossible to find. He had been lucky with these and he knew that he might well have to travel many days with naught but a drop of water to pass his lips. Unless of course he came across any stray people fleeing the area, then he might eat better.

Until then he would make the most of what he had. The closer he got to the north, the more insistent the voice inside his head became.

_Bring them…._

It was nothing more than a sibilant whisper really, but a compelling whisper nonetheless.

Bring them to me… 

Although it said nothing other than that, the visions that came with the voice promised much.

Oh he would bring them all right. Or die in the process.

* * *


	28. The best laid plans of mice and men

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Note to readers:** Many, many apologies for the delay in putting up the next chapter. Unfortunately my book, which is being edited, needed some re-writes and those had to come first in priority. It also took me a while to get the muse jump-started since he had been inactive for some time and his battery had gone flat! In addition I have been over to South Africa to visit my family and only just got back.

Oops spot the deliberate error in the chapter number. Now corrected. My apologies.

**Chapter 28 – The best laid plans of mice and men**

"Where love rules, there is no will to power;  
and where power predominates, there love is lacking.  
The one is the shadow of the other."  
**- Carl Jung**

**The camp of Ereinion Gil-galad**

"There's a lot you're not saying to me isn't there?"

Kim was standing within the circle of Gary's arms. In spite of the fact that they had no access to hot water, showers or toiletries, a warm spicy fragrance, redolent of cinnamon cookies, emanated from his skin. It made her feel both sleepy and aroused at the same time. As usual she felt as foul and as smelly as one of the orc things that always seemed to be jumping out of the bushes at them.

There was an amused glint in Gary's dark blue eyes. "Such as?"

He arched an eyebrow at her, then laughed and kissed the top of her head when she looked down at his chest in embarrassment. Kim could feel the blush rising from the tips of her toes to the top of her head

For his part, Gary was finding it hard to push his desire for her into the background, yet he knew he had to. Now filled with both the wisdom of eternity and immortality and fortified with the knowledge and technology of the modern world, he knew that to fulfil those desires could bring problems in the shape of a pregnancy. This was something he also wanted eventually, but certainly not in their current circumstances.

Even more worrying was the sure and certain knowledge that as time drew on, he and his other self, Eonwe, were becoming harder to separate. The line between them as individuals was beginning to blur. Gary and Olorin in the form of the Chief had discussed this unsettling state of affairs but could come up with no solution other than to retrieve the modern weaponry now apparently on its way to Morgoth and return them post haste to the woods of Nan Tathren, preferably _before_ Gary and Eonwe became one and the same person.

To this end Gary certainly was keeping much to himself and there was indeed a lot he couldn't say to Kim.

To his intense relief Kim didn't press the point. Instead she leaned her head on Gary's chest and inhaled the spicy, delicious scent of him. "It doesn't matter." She whispered. "I suppose you're just trying to protect me."

Gary rested his cheek on her hair. "Are you angry with me for doing that?"

She shook her head. "No. It's rather nice really. Nobody's ever wanted to do that before. But you could tell me why Chief's gone off with those others."

Gary tipped her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. "We need the two weapons we have to be operable." He said gently. "For that we need ammunition. The Elven smith Celebrimbor is more than capable of creating this, but we need a forge and the raw materials. Chief Knowles has a lot of knowledge about weapons and ammunition so he's gone along to advise Celebrimbor and come up with a substitute for the modern version of the charge used to propel a round. There is a forge about two day's ride from here and it's often frequented by the Naugrim apparently who have access to raw materials."

"Naugrim?" She frowned and her nose wrinkled slightly. "What the hell is a Naugrim?"

Gary chuckled. "Not a 'what', more of a 'whom'. Naugrim is the name for the race of Dwarves in Middle-earth."

She heaved a sigh. "This whole thing is getting more like Grimm's fairy tales by the second."

For a moment Gary's mind went blank. The reference to Grimm found no source of knowledge in his memory whatsoever and he frowned deeply. "Grimm's fairy tales?"

She looked up at him and saw the blankness. A furrow of worry appeared between her eyebrows. "Yes, you know. Like Hansel and Gretel, The Little Match Boy?" When she saw no enlightenment in those dark blue eyes, the furrow deepened. "Surely you must have read fairy tales when you were little, or your mother did?"

Eonwe stared at her uncomprehendingly. Why was he suddenly here in the middle of the woods, with her in his arms? And what was she talking about? "I…I don't remember my mother." He answered huskily trying to gain some time. "I do not know these fairy tales you speak of."

In that moment he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that somehow his persona and Gary's had joined temporarily. He also knew that time was running out, perhaps faster than they had anticipated and that this joining of the two personas was likely to happen more and more as time wore on until the point came when Gary would cease to exist altogether.

It was extremely disconcerting to have this mortal woman so close to him and what was even more disconcerting was to experience the level of arousal he was feeling. It wasn't that it was an unpleasant sensation, in fact quite the contrary, but like Gary he knew that to carry it through to an inevitable conclusion was not a good idea and the more she snuggled closer, the harder the desire was to control.

Instead he forced himself to search deeper to find whatever of Gary's memories were there. To his relief he managed to latch on to some of the childhood memories imprinted onto his modern self by Iluvator. At the same time Kim draw away slightly.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" She asked suspiciously. "_Everyone's_ heard of Grimm's fairy tales and Hansel and Gretel. Are you feeling okay?"

Eonwe gave her one of the devastating smiles he usually used to charm everyone around him. "I'm sorry." Ever mindful of not arousing her suspicions unnecessarily, he struggled manfully with the modern idiom of speech. "I was never one for fairy tales, even as a child. My interests were more…er…fighting and…stuff." He groaned inwardly. Stuff? What in the name of the Valar was 'stuff'?

He was vastly relieved when her expression lightened and then very alarmed when she slid her arms back around his waist and pressed herself to him. "Oh, I see. I suppose you must have always wanted to be a soldier."

Eonwe tightened his arms around her, closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Ever since my first memory." He murmured, sending up a prayer to Iluvator for assistance at the same time. Well it wasn't exactly a lie. He _had_ known he was destined to be a mighty warrior from the first moment he had sprung from the music of the Ainur.

"That's really nice." She looked up at him. A small but inviting smile curved her full mouth and he was mesmerised by it. Irresistible force met immoveable object and for the first time in a very long time Eonwe, Maia and Herald of Manwe gave way to the inevitable.

His lips met hers in a very long and most enjoyable kiss and all discussion between them ended.

* * *

**The tent of Eonwe, camp of the Host of the Valar **

"A penny for your thoughts." Tulcas' soft tones jerked him back to full consciousness of his surroundings.

"What? Where…" Eonwe stared around the tent. His mouth was dry and his heart was beating ten to the dozen.

"Where are you?" Tulcas smiled at him. He poured a goblet of the rich purple wine made from grapes that grew on the lower slopes of Taniquetl and handed it to the confused Maia. "I was just about to ask you the same question."

His gaze dropped downwards and Eonwe followed it. To his horror he realised that he was naked and a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin. "Oh no." He groaned as a very recent memory assailed him and fell back on the furs covering his cot.

"Oh no? That does _not_ sound very reassuring." Tulcas said lightly. He picked up a linen towel and tossed it to Eonwe. "Better get dressed. There is a large party of Orcs and other creatures headed our way. I will return in a moment."

He left the tent and Eonwe could hear him bellowing orders to all and sundry. He sat up with a sigh and forced himself to look under the fur covering his nether regions. The sight he had hoped he wouldn't see was there in all of its glory. What on earth had come over him? He had done the very thing he knew he shouldn't have done.

_Nice one_. Gary's dry tones sounded clear in his mind. _There I was managing to resist her charms very efficiently. I go out of my mind for two seconds and you're in there like a flash, bonking like a couple of rabbits._

Eonwe felt himself blush all over. "I did not intend that to happen." He said out loud before he could stop himself.

"You did not intend what to happen?" Tulcas' soft tones interrupted from the doorway. "What exactly is it that you have done Eonwe?"

The Herald hung his head as Gary's spectral laughter echoed at the back of his consciousness. "I think I just did a very silly thing." He admitted as he threw the furs aside, slid off the cot and began to towel himself down.

"So it would seem." Tulcas said dryly noting the rapidly subsiding erection. He opened the tent flap and gestured to the Vanyarin Elf who normally assisted Eonwe to don his armour that he would do the honours this time.

Eonwe pulled on a soft linen tunic and leggings. "It is beginning Tulcas. I was there, inside him, and I could not resist it."

Tulcas held out the soft leather jerkin that Eonwe wore under his mail. "Or her apparently." He remarked.

Eonwe hesitated slightly. He shrugged into the jerkin and then began to lace it up. "Or her." He admitted.

"So all the bawdy songs sung in the taverns about Eonwe the virgin are no longer true?" The Vala asked slyly.

"_What songs_? They don't…" Eonwe gazed at Tulcas in horror and embarrassment. "Do they?" His voice was filled with chagrin.

The Vala's lips twitched uncontrollably. "Well… I _have_ heard one or two little ditties." He burst into rich laughter. "I am sorry Eonwe, I was going to try to keep it going a little longer, but the expression on your face is beyond price. "Perhaps I was joking about the virgin part." He lifted his thumb and forefinger. "Just a teeny little bit."

Eonwe stood quietly as Tulcas lifted the mail over his head. When it settled on his shoulders it felt heavier than usual, as though he had just taken the entire weight of Middle-earth upon him. He looked up through a fringe of dark lashes at the golden-haired Vala.

"What if…"

Tulcas picked up the sword belt and handed it to him. "What if you have gotten her with child?" He asked bluntly.

Eonwe grimaced. "Yes."

"Then we have a problem do we not?"

"Is there no way of telling sooner rather than later?"

It occurred to Tulcas that Eonwe sounded like a hopeful little boy. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well…I don't know. Pregnancy test or something. Anything."

"What in the name of Mandos is a pregnancy test?"

Eonwe yanked the belt around his waist and yelped as it cinched too tightly. "Ouch, dammit, too bloody tight. A pregnancy testing kit is something you buy in shops like Boots the Chemist. You test the urine and if the colour changes then the woman is pregnant."

Tulcas saw a change in the Maia's mode of speech and expression and his eyes narrowed slightly. "How very ingenious. Where do you suggest we get this 'pregnancy testing kit' from?"

Gary looked up at the Vala in consternation. He picked up the goblet of wine that Tulcas had poured earlier and drained it to the last drop. "Oh bugger."

"My thoughts precisely." Tulcas said evenly.

* * *

**The camp of Ereinion Gil-galad**

Blissfully unaware of the body-hopping going on between her lover and his alter ego, Kim snuggled down in the warm blankets that had passed for their bed of passion. Gary had got up to relieve himself a couple of minutes earlier and still hadn't returned, but the blankets smelled deliciously of both of them and she felt an exultant glow spread over the whole of her body. It had been worth waiting for and the sense of completeness was wonderful. All around her she could hear the camp settling down for the night and she closed her eyes drowsily.

* * *

Rion watched with growing unease as Gary/Eonwe proceeded to make love to Kim. He heard the mortal woman's soft cries of pleasure and the Maia's passionate responses and frowned. Deep inside he knew that what he was doing was wrong and intrusive, but he couldn't stop himself. _It is not as though either of them are aware of me_. He argued to himself.

As if the wish were father to the thought, Gary paused briefly in his lovemaking. His head turned and Rion felt a thrill of panic, as it seemed that the Maia was looking directly at him. He froze on the spot and averted his gaze to the forest floor. Never had the ground received such a thorough examination as it did then.

Only when the sounds resumed did he venture to look up and he only did that briefly to make sure that he had not been spotted by anyone else. Usually Elves make no sound unless they wish to and Rion was no exception, yet as he silently rose to his feet, he was aware of the sensation of being watched and the hair rose up on the back of his neck.

He glanced nervously around him, but could see no one other than the Elven guards that Lord Glorfindel had posted around the camp perimeter and the archers that Lord Celeborn had ordered among the treetops.

Rion ventured yet another quick glance at the couple just in time to witness the fulfilment of the act. He shrank into the shadows in embarrassment as Gary lay still on top of Kim, head turned very slightly towards the spot where Rion had concealed himself. His eyes were closed but as Rion watched they slowly opened and he stared directly at the young Elf and smiled.

* * *

**A high tree-ringed knoll just above the camp of Ereinion Gil-galad **

Thadak watched the events unfolding before him with a keen interest and growing lust. He had desired the human female since the beginning and although his attention had since been on survival, he had not lost that desire. The desire to see her again and the fact that both orc and Elf stood in his direct path had drawn him away from the protection of the farmhouse and back to the army of the Elven King. He crouched now, at the top of a small hillock watching as the camp was set up. He had easily picked out the woman and her Maia consort as they stood embracing each other.

As the hated Maia disrobed her, revealing deliciously smooth pale breasts and thighs Thadak had nearly been overcome. He watched enviously as they coupled, all the time imagining what he would do to her if he could get her alone. In his thoughts he could almost feel the silky skin under his large hands. He knew she would be deathly afraid once he was poised to enter her, but somehow the thought of that fear only increased his lust.

_She can be yours_.

The voice insinuated itself into his mind and his hand stopped its stroking motions.

_The woman can still be yours. Bring her and the weapons to me at Thangorodrim and I will give her to you, but only if she is unspoiled when she reaches here._

I do not understand Thadak thought dumbly to himself. The Maia scum will follow her and bring his armies with him.

For a moment there was silence, then a chuckle evil and cold enough to freeze the marrow in anyone's bones sounded in his head. _Indeed he will and I, Sauron, will be waiting for him._

Sauron? Thadak was now very confused. Why did the Lieutenant of Morgoth wish to face the Maia Eonwe from the west in battle? Surely Morgoth had other plans.

_That is not your concern._ The voice continued smoothly. _All I need from you is the weapons and the woman. Her presence will ensure that the cursed armies of the Valar will be here on a ground and at a time of our choosing. Not theirs. Make your decision now. Will you bring them, or must I send another to do this?_

Thadak grovelled on the ground before his unseen master. _No Lord, I will do it. I will not touch a hair on her head._

Another brief period of silence followed, then the voice spoke once more_. Good. Speak to no one of this. I will cast a mist about the army of Gil-galad when they move out tomorrow and she will become separated from the main body. Take her then and move to the east as swiftly as you can. The armies of the Valar are being drawn out of the forest as we speak and your path to the east will be unhindered. Once through the forest, you must head in a northerly direction towards Thangorodrim once more. You must be swift however; time is of the essence and if Gil-galad reaches you before you reach Thangorodrim, retribution will follow and I will be unable to aid you._

Thadak did not lift his head from the dirt. _Yes Lord. It shall be as you command._

No answer was forthcoming and Thadak understood that the attention of Sauron was now elsewhere. He got to his feel warily and glanced around him to see if he had been spotted by the accursed Elven warriors, but all was silent in the camp below. The woman was now alone in her blankets and the Maia was nowhere to be seen, however Thadak did see that he was not the only one to witness the pleasuring of the human female by her Maia lover. One of the Elves, a youngling by the look of him, had also been watching.

Even as Thadak observed Rion's presence, the Elf stood up silently and then looked sharply around him, as if aware that he was being watched. Thadak instantly moved back into the shadow of the trees and remained there, unmoving, until the Elf stealthily crept away, back to his own campfire.


	29. Child's Play

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Note to readers:** Thank you Ellfine and Blackadder for the reviews and I'm again sorry for the delay in updating. Real life has a way of insinuating itself!

I sat and mulled over where I wanted this to go and came to the conclusions that there needed to be a few hiccups in events. I could have done a 'pursuit and recovery' angle in which they find Thadak, kill him and get the weapons, but then decided that a slightly more devious twist was needed to put some obstacles in the way of Gary and Eonwe. Hopefully I have gone some way to explain why Eonwe was able to do what Gary was hesitating over within the dialogue of this chapter. I've also tried to set out the basis for his procrastination.

**Chapter 29 – Child's Play **

"Before you were conceived I wanted you  
Before you were born I loved you  
Before you were here an hour I would die for you  
This is the miracle of life." **– Maureen Hawkins**

**After the battle, at Eonwe's campfire**

"You fight well. Your tactics are a little unorthodox perhaps, but your expertise is just as good as Eonwe's is."

The voice intruded into Gary's sombre thoughts as he sat by the glowing embers of the campfire.

"Is that so surprising, since I _am_ him, to all intents and purposes?" Gary spoke without turning his head towards the Vala.

Tulcas spread his cloak on the ground and lowered himself down beside Gary with a sigh. "I suppose not." He said mildly. "I had half expected to see Eonwe return to himself in the midst of battle. Your sojourn here has been longer than his was in the camp of Gil-galad."

Gary laughed shortly. "Perhaps because he achieved his aim in a much shorter time."

Tulcas detected a note of irascibility in the other's voice. "That act of his did not sit well with you."

It was a statement not a question, yet Gary answered anyway as if it was. He shrugged. "Maybe it was just as wellthat _he_ did the deed. I would have procrastinated and dilly-dallied around until the right moment had long passed and ended up losing the girl. Unlike me, he hasn't had to endure the complicated rules surrounding relationships that have evolved in modern times."

"How so?" Tulcas asked curiously.

"Just _meetin_g a woman is difficult enough in my time. Actually wooing her as a man would in this time is a virtual impossibility. Women in my time are…how shall I say? Emancipated and independent. They say they know what they want for themselves, but it seems more and more that whatever this is, it doesn't include men."

Tulcas looked puzzled. "But surely being emancipated and independent would be a good thing?"

Gary flashed an 'Eonwe' smile at him. "Perhaps, but men don't know where they stand with women any more. You can't take charge of anything; if you do then you're a bully. If you buy them flowers then they see you as weak, but if you don't buy them flowers then you're accused of not paying them any attention. In my time modern men and women practically speak different languages and the messages women send out are garbled. They will flirt outrageously with you but if you take that as encouragement then they tell you that you're taking advantage. So men just sit, watch and wait for the women to take the initiative."

"I see, and this is what you were doing." Tulcas hid a smile. "And how does this affect the fact that Eonwe took the initiative with your Kim?"

"My Kim?" Gary laughed, but the sound was hollow with unhappiness. "I wouldn't presume to call her that. She's more Eonwe's Kim at the moment. He…well he has none of the restrictions I have been imposed with. I suppose I'm him with an additional element, although I'm remembering everything that has ever happened to me up to and including the sortie today. I even recall sitting here with you afterwards, although our conversation went somewhat differently than it has tonight. Eonwe…he went to her not realising any of the pitfalls of modern courtship and he followed his instincts where she was concerned. I want to follow my instincts, but I know that our lives are much more complicated if I follow it all through to an inevitable conclusion."

Tulcas shook his head. "I still do not understand."

Gary licked his dry lips. "I am an officer in Her Majesty's Armed Forces. Kim is a senior non-commissioned officer in the same army. There is both a social and a hierarchical chasm between us that might seem petty to you and everyone else here in this time, but it exists. We face enough of a difficult time without an unexpected pregnancy when…if…we get back to our time from both the military authorities and the people around us in getting our relationship accepted, even supposing we both get back safely. It's not a lack of desire that has stopped me from doing what Eonwe did, but the knowledge that doing it while she is unprotected could cause major problems later on."

"Ah. You mean if you get her with child?"

Gary nodded sombrely. "Yes. It's not that I don't want children. I do, very much, and I want them with her. Just not under these circumstances. I want us to have a normal courtship. I want to date her; take her out to dinner, ease her into the society she will ultimately belong to, introduce her to my circle of friends without the complications of babies or rushed marriages. Get to know her and her to know me" His gaze grew distant. "Now it's all messed up."

"Are you angry with him?" Tulcas asked gently.

Gary thought for a moment. "No, not angry with him. More annoyed with myself I suppose because I wish that I didn't have the burden of knowledge that I have and that he doesn't have. It was a simple decision for him to make; the act followed on from the wish and the desire, whereas my desire is hindered by what I know will happen in the future. His is not. I wish…"

He stood up and stared into the darkness surrounding the immediate area. All around he could see the myriad campfires of the massive army of the Valar glittering like jewels in the ink-dark night. Part of him desperately wished that he belonged to this uncomplicated world, but although he remembered everything about his past now, he knew he was different.

"You wish?" Tulcas gently persisted.

Gary heaved a sigh and turned to look at the Vala. "I wish the first time had been mine." He said simply. "But I also know it wasn't to be and that ultimately it won't matter. I don't think that I will be going back with Kim and the others anyway."

Tulcas stared intently at him. "Indeed. Why do you think that?"

"I think it's too late. Things outside all of our control are happening I can feel it. Time is running out for Eonwe and I as individuals. During the battle I felt it more than any other time. He and I became one person. That's why my fighting was the same as it always was, because I _was _the same as always. That's why we have not yet gone back to our individual places." He met Tulcas' gaze directly. "But know this. The Eonwe who will return to Valinor will _not_ be the same person who left. Not only will he have knowledge of the future, but by his actions tonight with Kim he has condemned us both to living for millennia knowing that she will eventually be, with our child, somewhere on Middle-earth. I don't know whether we will be allowed to reunite as a family, but if not, then she has a hard road to follow and I have left no instructions as to her welfare or that of our baby." He shrugged and gave Tulcas a bleak smile. "How could I have, since it was never meant to happen this way?"

Tulcas gently gripped his arm comfortingly. "You do not yet know for sure that she is with child."

Gary gave him a pitying look. "Yes I do. I felt the spark of life spring into being, as did he, and it will directly affect everything that happens from now on in."

Tulcas had no answer for this. The mysteries of conception and birth were something the Valar did not have to experience, although of course he had knowledge of such matters from dealings with the Eldar. Each had said the same; that they knew that life had begun from the moment of conception. The Valar also knew from Melian's marriage with Elu Thingol that children were not banned from any union between Maiar and Eldar. Now there was the fact that children were also apparently not banned from any union between Maiar and Secondborn. Or was that perhaps just between a certain Maia and his choice of Secondborn mate?

_Speak no more of this to him Tul_cas. Manwe's soft and sorrowful tones sounded in his head. _You cannot help him._ _He has understood the situation accurately. If there are no more hindrances, he will return with the others to their own time and our Eonwe will be as he always was, albeit with future knowledge that can and will affect his actions. However we can make no such guarantees since Morgoth and his minions now have the power to interfere as they have proved. Things are happening and decisions are being made under the cover of a darkness neither I, nor any of the other Valar, can penetrate. The Lord of Mandos cannot and will not speak of it, yet I sense he knows what is to happen. Events must now take their own course. All we can offer is our support and strength for any trials to come._

Long after Gary had sought the seclusion of Eonwe's tent, Tulcas sat and considered everything that had happened and that would happen.

Gary seemed to persist in the idea that he and Eonwe were two individuals, yet Tulcas had seen just a few hours ago that this was not at all the case. The only difference between them was in the fact that the modern Eonwe in the shape of Gary brought a whole new aspect of modern military tactics and a shrewd, self-deprecating sense of humour to the more dour, very private Herald. Everything else was pure Eonwe, even down to the seemingly careless jesting and jousting that took place between them both.

Gary had been quick to ascertain that Tulcas considered himself to be much more than just a mentor to the Maia and where Eonwe had tended to be a touch more deferential in his joking with Tulcas, Gary had obviously felt no such restraints. Tulcas had taken immense delight in the complete relaxation of the restraints and natural barriers that Eonwe kept up to protect his privacy. The jokes had flown fast and furious during the fighting and afterwards where Eonwe would become quiet and introspective, Gary had sat and discussed his feelings and his reasons for the tactics.

Tulcas had felt honoured to be allowed to catch a glimpse of the fine man that Eonwe would eventually turn into and he began to understand much more clearly _why _Iluvator had chosen the Herald of Manwe as his representative in a future age.

The Kim situation was the first time that he had ever known the usually cautious, obedient Herald to fling caution to the winds and now it was certain that she was carrying his child. This fact put a whole new connotation on the situation and combined concern for her welfare might well speed up the joining of the two personas. Tulcas had the worst feeling that Gary was right in that he would not return to that future time with the mother of his child and their two companions.

The Vala sighed deeply and slipped into the shadow of the tents. As he did so, he shed the clothing of flesh and began the instantaneous journey back to Taniquetl. He badly needed to discuss his own tactics in dealing with the situation with his peers.

* * *

Ingwion sat down beside Finarfin and accepted a goblet of wine from the young Noldorin squire with a smile. In turn Finarfin raised his bright golden head from where it was buried deep in maps of the area and cocked an eyebrow at the Vanyarin commander. "Well?" He asked with a grin.

"What do you mean 'well'?" Ingwion demanded defensively. "Cannot a general visit a fellow general's quarters for some company and a glass of wine without there having to be an ulterior motive?"

Finarfin's light silvery laughed echoed around the silken tent. "Of course he can, except that you had a 'well what did you think of that' look on your face when you came in."

"I am surprised you actually noticed my expression with your head buried in those cursed maps." Ingwion growled.

"I see everything." Finarfin said calmly. "Kings have to develop the art, otherwise how can we keep up the pretence that we are all-seeing and all-knowing?"

Ingwion chuckled. "Ah well, in that case I shall never develop it, since it is unlikely that I will ever be a king. Not that I would wish to be of course." He added hastily. He leant over and dragged a small chest over to the front of his chair, slung his legs up on it and crossed them. "So what did you think of our Herald's battle strategy this day?"

"I thought it unorthodox, but very effective." Finarfin's voice was calm. "I have never seen a battle end so quickly and less bloodily."

"I agree." Mused Ingwion. "I have not seen such tactics before even from Eonwe. There was little for my force to do other than run through and sweep up. The archers and Curunir's fire weapons did it all very cleanly. There were hardly _any _deaths and only minor injuries, which is to be greatly applauded. The Herald was inspired to be sure."

"He was certainly different." Finarfin said softly. "And Curunir was not happy with either the method or the results."

Ingwion shuddered slightly. "There is something about that Maia that makes me feel very uncomfortable, yet I cannot understand why his objections to the use of his fire toys was so vehement. What Eonwe did with them was very effective."

Finarfin said nothing. He was not yet ready to voice his doubts about the agenda of Aule's Maia representative Curunir. What he _did _know was that the Maia greatly enjoyed watching his fiery weapons create as much destruction as they could and wasn't particularly upset when they killed and maimed members of the host as well as the enemy.

Up to now Eonwe had allowed Curunir to have his head, even though Finarfin knew that the Herald had misgivings about the use of the fire as a weapon, but the Noldorin High King had the distinct impression that he had only kept quiet because of the orders he was given by Aule with regard to Curunir.

This time Eonwe had given his fellow Maia succinct orders with regard to how he wanted the fire deployed and when Curunir demurred and protested, he had brought him firmly into line by reminding him who it was that commanded the Host.

Finarfin recalled the calm, yet amused look in Eonwe's eyes as Curunir had vehemently argued that his fire weapons could only be used effectively in a blanket fashion and that although it was unfortunate that both host and enemy were killed, sometimes it was necessary to do this in order to achieve the better victory.

Eonwe had stared at Curunir for a moment and a strange expression had passed across his handsome face. Then he had said something in a strange language that none of them had recognised but sounded to Finarfin like 'collateral damage', and laughed softly. Then he had proceeded to show the angry and dumbfounded Curunir just how extensive his own knowledge of fire as a weapon was and how he wished them to be used in the battle.

Curunir's expression had darkened horrifically and his features had set into a fearsome scowl, but albeit reluctantly and with a very bad grace, he did as Eonwe ordered and the result was that the battle had been short-lived and victorious. The archers with their fire tipped arrows and Curunir's fiery explosives had done their work well, Tulcas and Eonwe had dispatched yet another Balrog of Morgoth and the rest of the army had come in afterwards and carried out what Eonwe had termed 'sweeping up'.

But apart from the clean victory achieved over the enemy, one thing _was _crystal clear from the events of the day. Eonwe had made a dangerous enemy indeed.

Finarfin realised that Ingwion was now gazing expectantly at him and awaiting some comment. " As I said before, I think that the change of tactics was positive and very effective." He said in a neutral tone. "As for Curunir…" He shrugged. "I think that being dragged back into line has been long overdue. Eonwe commands the army, not him."

"He did not like it." Ingwion responded. "_And_ he holds the ear of Aule."

"Indeed he does." Finarfin said calmly. "Too much so, in the opinion of many, but that is not for me to say. Eonwe holds the ultimate power over the army, granted to him by Lord Manwe and even Aule cannot gainsay the Lord of the Breath of Arda, no matter how much his apprentice might wish him to do so."

"You are right, but for myself I sense something dark in Curunir and I for one will not willingly show him my back in future." Ingwion declared stoutly.

"Have no fear my friend." Finarfin poured some more wine into Ingwion's goblet and also into his own. "I will pluck any spears and arrows from your back should I spot them."

"Thank you… I think." Ingwion chuckled.

Finarfin also laughed. "What else are friends for?" He enquired amicably. "So, when can we expect that errant brother of yours to return to the Host?"

* * *

**The Timeless Halls of the Valar, Mount Oiolosse, Valinor**

Lord Manwe sat on a long, low-backed marble bench. His arm lay loosely along the back of it and his head was bowed. Varda Elentari entered the hall with the intent of chivvying her errant husband into eating and to that end she was followed in by a female Maia who carried a tray loaded with titbits of all his favourite foods.

When she saw the despondent figure of her husband, she immediately signalled silently to the Maia that she was to leave, but leave the tray. The maiden bowed her head respectfully and left as silently as she had entered. The tray was deposited on a nearby table.

Varda moved soundlessly to Manwe's side. She sat down and gently brushed a lock of his pure silver hair behind his ear. He did not look up or even acknowledge her presence and her heart sank.

"What is it my beloved?" She asked softly. "Has something happened?"

"She is with child." Manwe whispered. "The mortal girl is with child by Eonwe."

"Is that so bad?" Varda asked in soothing tones. "We knew that this was more than a possibility when all of this began. Is it not what Iluvator intended when he sends our Herald back to Middle-earth in that future age? Eonwe was to be the one to bring back the music, wisdom and magic into a world long bereft of such things. It seems to me that even if Eonwe and his modern counterpart become one, as long as she and the other two return to their own time, that end has been achieved. The child will be the founder of his line."

Manwe looked up. His eyes were filled with profound sorrow. "And he will lose her _and_ his child. How will that be for him? What kind of thanks do we offer for his continual sacrifices? Must he _always _be the one to lose?"

Varda placed a hand over his. "We do not know that Iluvator will not allow them to be reunited." She said quietly. "Unless of course he has ruled on this and not told us."

Manwe stood up and paced across the floor. "Not as far as I know, but it was not meant to happen this way. This was supposed to happen in their time and between the future Eonwe and the woman of his choice, not here in the First Age of Middle-earth. Things are not how they are supposed to be and if Morgoth finds out, then everything will change. She and the child will become a target for his evil intent and Eonwe, in whatever form, will risk all to defend and protect her. The fate of Middle-earth, present and future, as well as Valinor rests on a knife-edge."

"Then we must ensure that Morgoth does not find out." Varda said determinedly. "You must speak with Iluvator my love, there _must _be something we can do."

Manwe sighed. "I will seek communion with Iluvator."

Varda watched her husband shed his corporeal form as he walked towards the private area where he habitually went to commune with the Creator and gnawed at her bottom lip with frustration and worry.

_For the love of the Valar Eonwe_. She said to herself. _I know that you have a right to fall in love and to consummate that love, but could you not have waited just a few more millennia to do the deed?_

* * *


	30. So many questions, so few answers

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Note to readers:** Thank you Ellfine and Blackadder for the reviews and I'm again sorry for the delay in updating. Real life has a way of insinuating itself!

I sat and mulled over where I wanted this to go and came to the conclusions that there needed to be a few hiccups in events. I could have done a 'pursuit and recovery' angle in which they find Thadak, kill him and get the weapons, but then decided that a slightly more devious twist was needed to put some obstacles in the way of Gary and Eonwe. Hopefully I have gone some way to explain why Eonwe was able to do what Gary was hesitating over within the dialogue of this chapter. I've also tried to set out the basis for his procrastination.

**Chapter 30 – So many questions, so few answers**

**Buffy:** The world is what it is. We fight, we die.  
Wishing doesn't change that.  
**Giles**: I have to believe in a better world.  
**Buffy**: Go ahead. I have to live in this one.  
- **Buffy the Vampire Slayer**

**Drusilla **- How do you feel about eternal life?  
**Xander -** We couldn't just start with coffee?  
**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer**

"What's up?" Jim stroked Bertie's velvet nose and then chuckled as the horse dipped his head and nudged at him. "Looking for luckies are we?" He held out his hand and revealed a small wrinkled looking apple, which the horse devoured greedily.

"Couldn't you find a fresher looking apple to give him?" Kim leaned against the tree. Her whole aspect was one of discontent.

Jim turned to look at her. "Oh indeed yes madam, I could just nip down to Tesco's down at the corner by that tree there and select one from their fresh fruit produce. Would you like me to get you anything while I'm there?"

"Oh ha bloody ha." Kim pursed her lips. "I wish…."

Jim chuckled. "Having a bad morning are we? Woke up without the warm body of our fearless leader keeping the drafts away did we?"

Kim's face twisted slightly. "That's not funny. Do you know where he is by any chance?"

Jim shook his head. "Nope. Haven't seen him since last night when we all turned in and you two made yourselves scarce. You haven't misplaced him already have you?"

She bit her lip. "I haven't seen him since…." She blushed furiously. "We were together and he went to spend a penny. I fell asleep and when I woke up he wasn't there."

"I'm sure he's somewhere around Kim." Jim said gently. "The camp is breaking up and we need to get after that orc with our guns. He's probably talking to Gil-galad or something. I shouldn't worry if I were you."

Kim reached out and stroked Bertie's smooth flank. His compact yet powerful muscles shivered under the satiny skin and his tail flicked. She sighed and opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again as quickly.

"Something on your mind?"

She shuffled uncomfortably. "I'm not sure." Jim waited patiently while she struggled with whatever it was she wanted to say and finally she managed to continue. "Don't you think it's really weird that Gary understands their language so well?"

Jim settled a blanket over Bertie's back. "How do you know he does? Maybe he's just good at sign language."

"Oh come off it." She scoffed. "He bloody well talks to them. I've heard it and so have you if you're being really honest. He talks to that King person, what's his name again? Gil-galang or something?"

Jim hid a smile. "Gil-galad?"

"That's him. He talks to him in whatever that language is."

"Sindarin." Jim said patiently. "It's one of the languages the Elves speak."

"Whatever it is." Kim dismissed the explanation with an airy wave of her hand. "My point is, how did he suddenly become so fluent in it? If I remember rightly, _you _were the one who knew words and phrases, now all of a sudden he's language boy?"

Jim's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Language boy?" He struggled to keep a straight face.

"You know what I mean." Kim said sulkily. "He couldn't speak it before and now he can. Magically. Overnight."

"Hardly overnight." Jim protested. "It's been a couple of weeks…okay just over a week. Perhaps he's really good at languages. You know, picks them up really quickly."

"Perhaps, and if my grandma had wheels, she'd be a wagon." Kim said shortly. "I just think it's very strange. He's changing as well. He's different from the way he was when this all started."

Jim sighed. "We've all changed in the past couple of weeks Kim, even you, although you may not think it. Just think about all of the things we've had to get used to, including a new race of people. We've been shot at, chased, done without food and water…I don't know what you expect. We're adapting because we have to and the changes aren't coming to an end any time soon, so I suggest that you get used to it." He looked sharply at Kim. "Are you and Gary a proper item now?"

She flushed bright red. "I don't know what you mean." She faltered.

Jim laughed outright. "Yes you do. Don't tell me that you and he were discussing tactics in your blankets last night."

"Oh god. Did you hear us?" She looked utterly mortified.

"Well you weren't loud enough to wake the camp, but I imagine anyone within a radius of a few yards wasn't in any doubt as to what was happening."

"Well they shouldn't have been listening. I'm fed up with everyone knowing our business, this whole thing just sucks." She said furiously. There were two bright spots of colour high on her cheeks and her mouth was set in a petulant line. For the first time since meeting her Jim felt a tinge of irritation, which he fought down with difficulty. He finished with Bertie and then took her arm gently and led her back to the campfire.

"Let's sit down and have a talk, okay?" He said as gently as he could. It had never occurred to him that his gentle teasing would have elicited this reaction from her. She was fast approaching the point of complete unreasonability.

"About what?" She glared at him mutinously and stood with her hands on her hips. "I should go and get my horse sorted or everyone will just whinge at me again."

Jim pulled her down firmly. "Your horse can wait awhile and as far as I know nobody has actually whinged at you so far. Anyway, Elves don't whinge, they wait patiently until us lesser mortals get our act together."

She settled down beside him reluctantly. "So?" She demanded truculently.

"Kim what on earth is going on with you?" There was deep concern in his eyes and Kim was a little taken aback.

"What do you mean? There's nothing going on with me, as you put it."

"Okay, how about the fact that you're behaving like a spoilt brat. You're not a child Kim, you're a grown woman for god's sake and supposedly a senior member of the British Army." Jim could feel exasperation rising. "There's a lot at stake here and Gary is trying hard to make things right, not to mention getting the weapons back, along with now juggling a very new relationship with you. I don't envy him at all. There's not just us getting home to consider. What if those weapons got into the wrong hands and were used to make a different ending to the War of Wrath? You're so wrapped up in yourself and whatever Gary or anyone else might be thinking of _you _that you're not looking at the bigger picture. This is not just about you, or Gary."

"How dare you!" She cried angrily, but even as she protested she knew that he was right. She had spent the past few days with everyone making allowances for her. She was being stupidly jealous and childish over Gary and it wasn't like her at all. The trouble was that she had gone so far now she had no idea how to back-pedal, so she did the only thing she could and that was to make it worse.

Jim watched with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation as she buried her face in her hands. There was little he could say to make her feel better and someone had to get her to see that she needed to sort herself out and pretty sharpish.

He reached out and gently touched her hair. "Kim…" He began, but she angrily brushed his hand away and stood up.

"No. Just leave me alone. I can't say or do _anything_ right here. Everybody's perfect except me and I'm sick of it. I wish I was back home. _Everything's_ horrible. I can't understand anything anyone says. Gary just comes and goes like some hit and run merchant. One minute he's nice to me and the next he treats me like a congenital idiot. We need to _talk_ to each other, sort things out, but there's always something more important going on. What can be more important than our future together?"

"The future of Middle-earth perhaps?" Enquired Jim softly. "Because it very much looks like whatever happens here will have a direct effect on _our_ future in 2005."

She stared at him wildly, unwilling or perhaps unable to see beyond her own misery. "I have to go, I need some air and some space to think. All I wanted to know was why Gary could suddenly speak that stupid language, I didn't come for the two-penny lecture on how to behave."

Before Jim could stop her, she had blundered off into the trees and disappeared rapidly from his sight. It occurred to him that he should go after her because, as peaceful as it seemed at the moment, Jim knew that the area was strewn with dangers for someone like Kim. Capture by any random orcs wandering around was not the least of these. He was about to start after her, but was interrupted by the arrival of Erestor who bowed, smiled and indicated that the High King would like to speak with him.

* * *

Thadak's small yellow eyes narrowed and a soft wheezy chuckle escaped him as he watched the woman storm off into the bushes away from her male companion. He did not follow her immediately however, there were too many of those accursed Firstborn milling around the area or standing guard. Instead he remained in his hiding place and watched with interest as the man she had been conversing with earlier followed the tall dark-haired Elf and disappeared into the only tent that had not yet been dismantled. 

After a few minutes and after the human female had wandered far enough away from the immediate earshot of the camp, Thadak slipped out of the trees and followed her towards the river.

* * *

"Ah, here you are." The High King's beautiful smile practically lit up the tent and Jim blinked. "Are you able to understand my speech or should I speak more slowly?" 

Jim shook his head. "No…" He stammered.

Gil-galad raised his perfectly arched eyebrows in question and Glorfindel who was leaning against one of the poles that held the tent up chuckled.

Jim flushed to the roots of his hair. "Er… I mean yes, but slower please" He replied in rather stumbling Sindarin.

The High King nodded. "Of course. I wished to know if you have seen Garee this morning. I have a need to speak with him urgently."

Jim stared at him and swallowed nervously. "I have not seen him this morning yet." He said. "Perhaps he went to the river to wash?"

The truth was that Jim hadn't seen Gary since he and Kim had retired for the night. He hadn't been concerned earlier when he had been speaking to Kim, but now he was beginning to wonder, especially since Kim had told him that Gary had awoken during the night and gone to relieve himself and not gone back to her. He had not seen any reason to panic at the time, but now that the Elves, who saw just about everything, were asking his whereabouts, Jim's anxiety level started to rise a little.

He saw Gil-galad cast a speaking glance at the now sombre Glorfindel who nodded almost as if the High King had spoken out loud, straightened up and left the tent with alacrity.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked in halting Sindarin.

Gil-galad sighed. "I do not know. I hope not. He was meant to be here this morning for my commander's meeting, but it appears that no one has seen him since last night. It seems that he may have wandered off and become lost. There are many dangers around us in the forest and not all of them are Yrch."

Jim sat down heavily on the only remaining stool and ran his hands through his hair. "All I know is that he spent the night with Kim." He said helplessly. What other dangers was the High King referring to?

Gil-galad's light pleasant laugh rippled around the tent. "This we know. We also know that he left her side hours ago. One of the perimeter guards spoke to him as he sought seclusion among the trees and was told that he was merely answering a call of nature. The guard did not question it and since he was due to be relieved thought no more about it, although he did briefly mention it to his replacement."

"Shit, shit, _shit_." Jim swore softly to himself. Where the fuck was Gary and what had possessed him to go wandering away from the safety of the camp and the Elven guards?

Gil-galad observed the myriad of expressions crossing Jim's face. He didn't need to understand the language to know that the man was now very worried. He gently placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Garee is a capable warrior, I have no doubt that he could make a good account of himself were he to be attacked. However Glorfindel and Erestor have gone to search the area for tracks and we will know what there is to know shortly."

"There is no need for concern on my behalf my Lord Gil-galad. I am here."

Even Gil-galad jumped slightly as Gary stepped out of the shadows at the back of the tent. He smiled reassuringly at Jim and turned to the surprised High King.

"I am sorry if I startled you." He said smoothly. His dark blue eyes shone with a brilliant light, yet there was a shadow across his handsome face and his smile was tight. His hair was lightly dusted with frost and he had drawn the thick woollen cloak he was wearing around himself as though he was chilled to the bone.

Gil-galad nodded and poured a goblet of some clear liquid from a dark leathern flask, which was usually attached to his belt.

"It is bitterly cold out. This will at least provide some warmth." He observed as he handed it to Gary who drank it down in one draught and grimaced slightly at the heat and strength of it. The High King watched him with a thoughtful expression on his face, but made no other comment.

Gary nodded. "Yes indeed it is. I must speak with you my Lord." He said quietly.

"Can it wait until we are mounted?"

Gary shook his head. "I fear not." He smiled at Jim. "Have you spoken with Kim this morning?"

For the first time Jim noticed the light in Gary's eyes and though it was hard to look directly into them, it was equally as hard to look away. "Yes." He mumbled. "About fifteen minutes ago and she wasn't a happy bunny I can tell you."

A strange expression passed across Gary's face. "Not happy?"

Jim pursed his lips. "Well I'm not sure that this is the place to discuss your private life, especially since it's none of my business, but here goes nothing. Getting up and leaving after a night of…er…passion with a woman you're supposed to be in love with and not coming back is no way to get on her good side. She was pissed because you hit and ran. I'm not sure that I blame her either."

Gil-galad couldn't understand anything that was passing between Gary and Jim because it was in English, but the slight irritation in Jim's voice was obvious, as was Gary's expression of puzzlement.

"Pissed? Hit and run?" Gary asked. "What do you mean…?" His voice trailed off uncertainly as the penny dropped. "Ah. I can explain."

Jim shook his head in exasperation. "It's not me you need to explain to mate and I'm not sure the person who is, feels in the mood to listen to you."

"Where is she?" Gary's voice was soft.

Jim shrugged. "I'm not sure, somewhere around camp I think. She and I were having words when Erestor came to find me and then she ran off into the woods in a snit."

Gary stiffened. "Into the woods? And you let her go?"

The young policeman bristled. "Hang on a minute." There was an edge of real anger in his voice. "It's not my bloody job to baby-sit your girlfriend. And I don't know if you've noticed, but she doesn't listen when you tell her things anyway. She's a grown woman for fuck's sake. She can make her own mind up what she wants to do."

The two men faced each other. Gary's flash of anger seemed to have made him grow larger, to the point where he was literally looming over the other man, yet Jim refused to be overawed and stood his ground. Gil-galad decided that it was time to intervene.

"I do not understand what you are both saying." He interposed quietly but firmly. "However I can tell from your tone that not all is well. Will you not explain the reasons for your altercation? Perhaps I can help."

Gary glanced at Jim and then spoke in fluent Sindarin to Gil-galad whose face went pale. He went to the door of the tent and issued peremptory orders to one of the Elven warriors outside. Moment's later frantic activity could be heard.

Finally he came back into the tent and spoke again, this time slowly enough so that Jim could understand him. "I have ordered search parties to be sent out to look for her. Hopefully she has not gone too far away from camp."

Jim looked aghast. "Do you think something has happened to her?" In his anxiety he spoke in English totally forgetting that Gil-galad wouldn't be able to either understand or reassure him.

"None of us can be sure Jim." Gary replied gently, also in English. "The woods are not safe, even with the guards in place. We have no idea where the orc who has our weapons is, but so far the trackers have said that he went to ground only a few miles from here. There is no sign that he attempted to travel any further north, probably because there are too many obstacles in his way. In any case, there are quite a few orc skirmishing parties around that tend to prey on any stragglers from a large group like this."

_So._ Gary's voice, wracked with worry, sounded in Eonwe's head. _You make love to my girlfriend, get her pregnant and then lose her? What the fuck is going on over there? Remind me why Lord Manwe put you in charge again?_

Eonwe in his role as Gary was trying hard to push down the sickening notion that Kim, newly pregnant with his child, might have been captured by the very orc who had intended Gary and his group harm from the beginning. If Thadak managed to get Kim, then he had two very strong bargaining chips with both sides. He could see by the grim expression on Gil-galad's face that the same notion had occurred to him.

Jim had gone as white as a sheet. "Oh god, no." He whispered. "It's all my fault. I should have gone after her."

Eonwe gently drew the stricken young man to him. "It is not your fault Jim. As you said, it is hardly your job to baby-sit Kim. She is a grown woman and a soldier, she should know better than to dash off like that."

For the first time Jim realised that Gary's English sounded a little stilted, as though it was being spoken by someone who, although they spoke it fluently, was completely unaccustomed to the nuances of ordinary conversational speech. However before he could say anything they were interrupted by Glorfindel coming back into the tent accompanied this time by the silver-haired Elf that others referred to as Lord Celeborn and Cirdan. Glorfindel handed something to Gary,

There followed a heated discussion wholly in Sindarin of which Jim could only understand a word here and there, but it was quite clear that Kim had not been found. The expression on Gary's face was a mixture of grimness and despair, while the Elves were obviously very concerned.

Jim tugged at Cirdan's sleeve. "Can you tell me what is happening?"

He was struggling to find the correct Sindarin, but the shipwright apparently understood the gist of what he was saying because he looked down at him with sympathy in his pale blue eyes.

"We cannot find her." Cirdan said as gently as he could. "But there are signs of a struggle not far from the water's edge. We believe she drew her sword to defend herself, but did not have either the time or the opportunity to use it. We found it flung into the bushes. There is also evidence that the one who took her is the same one that took your weapons."

"How do you know?" Jim asked bewildered. "Did he leave a calling card or something?"

Eonwe was the only one who actually understood the reference and gave a hollow laugh. "He did leave a calling card of sorts, quite by accident of course."

He handed one of the magazines from one of the stolen weapons to Jim who took it and turned it over in his hands slowly. Through the compacted dirt and bits of grass that had clogged it up, a gleam of gold could be seen so he gently scraped some of the muck away until he had uncovered the brass of a round still sitting in its housing.

"It still has rounds in it."

Eonwe nodded. "Yes."

"What are we going to do?"

Gil-galad answered him. "We will set off in pursuit, since we now have tracks. He has been considerably slowed down by carrying the weapons and also has Lady Keem to contend with. Bound and gagged, she will be no easy burden. Lord Celeborn has set two of our scouts to follow them, but even _with_ his burdens it may be that he still moves swiftly; Orcs are strong and fast. Time is now of the essence so I suggest you get your mounts. The sooner we set off the sooner we will find them. Glorfindel will leave a small rear party to dismantle the rest of the camp and they will follow on after us."

He looked questioningly at Glorfindel who bowed low, hand over his heart. "It is already being done my Lord."

The High King picked up his dark cloak, slung it around his shoulders and strode out of the tent followed by Eonwe, Jim and the others.

Eonwe and Jim headed towards their horses in silence. It was only when they had collected their bedrolls and packs and were about to mount that Jim finally turned around to speak to the Maia. "What did you need to talk to the King about?"

Eonwe mounted Gary's horse gracefully and the horse accepted his presence with a soft whinny of pleasure whereupon the Herald bent down and absently stroked its neck. His mind was clearly elsewhere. "It is nothing." He eventually said quietly. "At least nothing that cannot wait for a little while. There are more pressing matters to worry about now."

Jim nodded mutely, mounted his own horse and together the British Police Constable and the Maia greatest in arms, Herald of the Lord of the Breath of Arda, rode after the main body of Ereinion Gil-galad's army in pursuit of Thadak, Kim and the guns.

* * *


	31. An Ill Wind

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 2

**Note to any readers:** I realise it's been a long while since I wrote anything of this story, family circumstances, an accident and then waiting for surgery has occupied a lot of my time. I don't know if anyone will take it up again, but I hate leaving things unfinished. So here goes nothing...

**Update:** Have had to make a couple of minor alterationss in this chapter, nothing that should spoil the flow, but that will bring it in line with the previous chapter.

* * *

"As a point of courtesy, I like to get to know my opponents before I engage them in mortal combat. Do you have any hobbies? " **- Wesley from the series Angel**

So, here she was again, lost and in yet another wood. Kim huffed an exasperated sigh. What was it with her life and trees these days?

All around her was silence, not the usual kind of silence with birds twittering in the background or the soft rustles of animals scuttling through the under-brush and the gentle breeze shivering through the long grass. This was the deafening kind. It was ominous, heavy and pressed close up to her. Away from the silvery light that seemed to permanently surround the Elves and the protection offered by her companions, she was beginning to realise just how dark everything actually was.

In fact the silence was suffocating. It was as though a deep abiding misery and heavy brooding malice existed in this place.

She sat down on a log and tried to take stock of which direction she had blundered deeper into the woods from, but all she could see was how close the tree trunks huddled together and how dark the spaces were between them.

A trickle of sweat itched between her shoulder blades and she shrugged in order to try and ease the irritation. As she did so she had the sudden notion that someone was watching her from behind, so she turned swiftly hoping it was Gary or even one of the others. It was a dim hope though, there was no one behind her, only the ever silent, brooding trees. The first tingle of panic began to fizzle in her brain as she realised that she must have wandered much further from the camp than she had intended.

Her first instinct was to call out, but she knew that if anyone who wasn't exactly friendly was about it would only draw their attention to her, so instead she stood up and searched the ground for any tracks she might have left in her hasty desire for a quiet place to think or even perhaps any sign that would show her passage through the undergrowth so she could at least backtrack.

After a few minutes of tracking the obvious footprints she had left, Kim found herself strangely hampered by the actual vegetation itself. Every time she tried to search beyond where her footprints ended in the tiny clearing, the trees seemed to actually move together and prevent her from passing through.

She sat back on her heels and ground her teeth in frustration. Perhaps her only point of recall was to call out them and she opened her mouth to do just that, but before she could shout anything her attention was distracted by the sight of the first animal she had seen in days and days. As her eyes met the golden eyes of the light grey wolf on the other side of the clearing to her, she let out a small strangled sob of fear. Was this how the end would come? As lunch?

The wolf did not move and she didn't dare in case it attacked, and in any case, where would she run to?

* * *

Inwardly Gil-galad heaved a sigh of exasperation. This mortal woman was becoming more trouble than any of them could cope with right now. They could hardly spare the time to stop and look for people who insisted on running off to get lost. Each minute spent searching for that blasted nuisance of an Edain woman was a minute not spent in getting back weapons that would turn the tide of the Valar's war in the favour of Morgoth. 

Yet despite wanting to say that she was not of his concern, he also could not countenance leaving an innocent and unarmed mortal woman at the mercy of whatever evil was stalking through the wood. Add to that her connection to Lord Eonwe and it became very much his concern.

Gil-galad was beginning to wish he had stayed put in Sirion instead of standing on his dignity as High King and trying to follow the Host of the Valar into war.

* * *

Eonwe stared at the disturbed ground at his feet and bit his lip. Judging by the flattening of the long grass and squashed vegetation, Kim had run off without really heeding her direction. 

Gary's dry voice inserted itself into his mind. _Well no surprise there then, that's Kim all over. Loose cannon doesn't quite cover it, the silly little idiot._

The elven tracker dispatched by Celeborn to discover her path of flight had stood up a few steps further on through the bushes with a puzzled expression in his eyes. He pointed at the ground once Eonwe, Jim and the others caught up to him.

"She stopped here for a moment." The tall elf pointed at a clump of particularly thorny bushes. He opened his palm and in it was a small scrap of soft grey cloth. "I found this snagged on the thorns. She then changed direction here and moved in the opposite direction but I cannot see why she would do this unless she felt the thorn bush blocked her path. As you can see it does not. The other way leads deeper into the trees. Had she continued on her original path she would have eventually reached the position of one of our scouts. He would have escorted her back or at least pointed her in the direction of the camp again. Instead she fled into the woods away from the camp. I can find no orc tracks yet"

Eonwe's heart sank and he could feel the echo of Gary's concern at the back of his consciousness.

"Why would she do this?" He whispered almost to himself, then he looked up at Jim whose face was filled with fear and guilt. ""What happened between you that she felt she had to run away Jim?"

Jim shrugged in helpless misery. "We...we talked mostly about you." He mumbled.

Before he could say anything else on the matter Gil-galad gently grasped Eonwe's arm and gestured towards the tracker. "Tharadir and the others will continue their search to try and find her direction and Glorfindel has sent other search parties to look for her in other directions. You can do no good thrashing around the forest now. Let the scouts do their work." His keen grey eyes lanced through Jim who hung his head and clenched his fists.

Eonwe nodded but as they moved back to the main body, he put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "It's not your fault Jim." He said quietly. "Kim was ever unpredictable and if anyone should shoulder the blame it is I. I should never have left her alone last night, especially not after..." His voice broke slightly and he swallowed before continuing. "...not after what happened between us. I think I've created more doubts in her by that action than anything else I have done. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to her."

"We will find her." Gil-galad interjected firmly. "We will scour the area for her. She is on foot and cannot have gone far."

The tall silver elflord Celeborn had been silent up to this point, but now he turned to Eonwe and Jim. "You should know that what I hear from many of the trees is not reassuring. They warn me of intruders and evil among the trees, they also warn me of certain of the trees knowing that disaster will soon be among us and it does not make them happy. It is very possible that the trees and bushes will ally themselves against any kind of intrusion by elves or humans. This may well be why Lady Kim changed her direction. It might be that the trees herded her in the direction they wished her to be."

"And what direction would that be?" Asked Jim, disbelief patent on his face.

Celeborn glanced at him. "Out of the woods. Away from them. Many of the trees here now see us as invaders bringing death, disaster and evil to what was once a beautiful and enchanted land. They would not help her reach her own kind, they merely want her, and the rest of us, gone. Yet there are some who still will speak to me and they speak of orcs and others whose nature and kind they do not specify. There are many dangers in this land, Morgoth's creatures only number some of them. Others have been here a lot longer."

* * *

The staring match between Kim and the wolf went on a lot longer than was comfortable. It was only when the wolf dropped low and started to edge towards her on its belly that she remembered the knife she had tucked into her belt. 

Gingerly and with her eyes never leaving the wolf's intent gaze, she felt around cautiously and finally grasped the knife. She held it out in front of her and tried to look menacing. Hopefully the wolf wouldn't realise that her knees were knocking together.

It was at that point that two completely unexpected events took place. The first was that the orc Thadak decided to make his move. He hadn't anticipated saving his prey from a wild animal, but perhaps she would be grateful enough to allow him to get close enough to overcome her.

The second and most surprising event happened as Thadak appeared as if by magic through the bushes and the wolf's attention turned to this new obstacle to a decent meal.

Between the devil and the deep blue sea and not able to decide which was the lesser of the two evils, Kim sank down onto her haunches in despair and fear and tried to make herself invisible.

As the wolf launched himself at the orc who instantly defended himself against the onslaught, a tall figure suddenly detached itself and dropped down lightly from the trees. The wolf immediately altered its approach and obviously decided that the numbers game was very much not in his favour. Bleeding from a surface wound in his flank, he loped back through the trees and disappeared. Despite being hungry, the creature decided that this was not a place to be any longer and headed north in the direction most of his kin had fled. There was no life or living to be had from this place now.

Thadak found himself facing an altogether more deadly enemy. The elf now facing him was tall as most elves were, but the long flaming hair that fanned out beneath the gleaming mithril helm and the fell look in his bright green eyes were something Thadak knew about. Many of his kind had spoken of the bright, fearless warriors of Red Hair and his brother. They were merciless in their dealings with orc kind.

The orc made a split second decision. The woman was not worth this. He began to back away into the bushes, snarling softly to himself. A green flighted arrow spun past swift and true and took him in the shoulder. Thadak turned tail and ran, only pausing a few minutes later to retrieve his precious bundle from the rock he had hidden them in. Moments later he was pounding in the direction of north. He yanked the arrow out of his shoulder and ignored the pain and the flow of black blood that dropped on the ground and stained the grass. He left a plain track for any fool to follow, but now speed was of the essence. He had to put as much distance between him and the elves as quickly as he could.

"Shall we follow Lord?" One of the warriors who had melted out of the trees like smoke spoke to the grim faced red-haired elf who was slowly approaching the mortal woman. She looked up at him with a mixture of fear and relief on her face.

The red-haired elf made a sharp gesture of negation. "No. We do not have time for chases. We are already late in reporting to the Host." He bent down on one knee beside Kim and she shrank bank in fear. He could sense the thundering of her heart and tried to make a calming gesture at her. "Do not be afraid. What are you doing here on your own? Where are your people?"

All Kim heard was the silvery fluid noises that the other elves had made which they called Sindarin. She didn't understand a word of it, but the realisation that they meant her no harm had sunk in and she grasped onto him as if he was a life preserver, sobbing against his shoulder.

"Maedhros?" One of the tall warriors with long dark hair and much kinder grey eyes stepped toward the startled and much put-upon red-haired elf. "Is she hurt?"

Maedhros managed to push the sticky, tear stained Kim at arm's length so that he could examine her. "I do not think so." He said after a couple of minutes. "I believe she is just frightened and lost." He stood up and lifted the trembling woman to her feet. "Perhaps Elrond could look at her quickly, he is better at healing than most of us. Elrond?"

A tall very young looking man separated himself from the warriors who were now grouped in the tiny clearing and bowed his head to Maedhros who pushed Kim over to him. "Take a look at her and see if she has any immediate serious injuries."

The dark young man called Elrond smiled reassuringly at Kim. He held his hands out and she realised that he was asking to examine her. She nodded and let him run his slender hands expertly over her. His face showed no other expression than friendly warmth until his gentle hands rested on her abdomen. A frown creased his brow for a moment and then he started back and spoke in silvery Sindarin to the others.

"She is uninjured, but I can sense new life within her."

Mr Red-Hair as Kim was beginning to think of him rolled his eyes in frustration. "Superb. That is all we need. An Edain woman with child. Can she sit a horse do you think?"

"She can ride with me." Elrond said hesitantly. "If she has problems I can attend to her."

Maedhros stared at his foster son. "You are sure? We must make speed, We cannot stop every few minutes to wipe her tears away or see to her needs."

"I believe she is just tired and distressed and is relieved to be rescued." Elrond said calmly. "Once we are travelling, she will probably fall asleep."

The dark haired man picked up Kim's knife and wiped it on some leaves before handing it back to her with a slight bow. He then smiled at Elrond who offered his arm to Kim and they all followed Maedhros who stalked back through the trees to where the rest of his battle group had been waiting.

If any of the waiting Elven warriors were surprised at their lords entering the trees to chase down a wolf and coming out with a bleary eyed mortal woman, they were too polite to mention it. Another tall young man, who was the spitting image of Elrond handed the reins of a horse to him. Kim glanced from one to the other and did a double take when she saw how alike they were.

Elrond grinned and pointed at himself. "Elrond." He explained and then touched his twin's chest. "Elros. Gwadur.

Kim managed a tremulous smile and hazarded a guess. "Brothers?" She asked pointing at each in turn. "Your name is Elrond and his name is Elros. You are twins."

Elrond beamed and nodded. "Brother. Tweens." He said grinning triumphantly at Elros who laughed.

"Her Westron is a little strange brother, but I think I can understand some of the things she says." He tapped Kim on her shoulder and looked questioningly at her.

Kim smiled genuinely for the first time that day. He obviously wanted to know her name, so she pointed at herself and said "Kim."

"This is all very touching." Maedhros imperiously drew his horse in beside them. "But we do not have time to waste with language lessons. We must ride, time is of the essence." He then spurred his horse on to the head of the column of warriors and they began to move out.

Elrond held his cupped hands out to Kim and she allowed herself to be gently put on the back of his horse, then he mounted lightly behind her. If he noticed the awful body smell that Kim was convinced she had, he was far too courteous to say so. Instead he gently pulled his voluminous cloak around both of them and she sank back against his chest in relief. Elros swung his horse in beside them and the other dark-haired elf rode immediately behind them.

The rocking motion of the horse and the warmth of the young elf's arms soon sent her into a dose. She was far too tired to even think about Gary and the others. These elves were far more scary than Gil-galang and his merry men, but somehow she felt much more at home amongst them.

ooOoo


	32. Enter the Kinslayers

"The best cure for drunkenness is whilst sober, to observe a drunken person."

**- Chinese Proverb**

**Time suspended: The Halls of Waiting – Lord Namo's domain, his inner sanctum**

Namo sat back in his carved ebony chair and a small smile tugged at the corners of his finely sculpted lips. The Chief stared at the move his opponent had just made so smoothly and with so little hesitation.

"You just scuppered Thadak's little plans." He said shaking his head in utter disbelief. "Which of our Elven friends have you just brought into play?"

The Lord of Mandos chuckled. "I thought a little of the unexpected might make the situation more interesting." He admitted. "Too much do you think?"

Chief countered Namo's mischievous expression with a calm imperturbable countenance of his own. "Well considering I have no idea who you just threw in Thadak's way, I have no way of knowing whether it was too much or not. On the other hand, you may have just saved Kim from a fate worse than death, so perhaps I won't complain too much about you introducing random factors to our little game."

"I would hardly call the Kinslayers a 'random factor'." Murmured Namo. "More of a dynamic catalyst. Feanor's boys were ever wild and unpredictable. About the only thing anyone knows for sure about them is that wherever the Silmarils are likely to be, there they will be. I am guessing it is one of the driving reasons for them being involved in the War of Wrath in the first place."

Chief raised his eyebrow in surprise. "You must be talking about Maedhros and Maglor then. You made them rescue Kim ? Isn't that a bit like jumping from the frying pan into the fire for her?" He moved one of the orc pieces into Thadak's path, making him the filling in an orc and elf sandwich and grinned widely at Namo, who gave a mildly discontented snort at the mortal's impudence.

"And you call me nasty?" He sniffed and considered his next move. "I did not 'make' them do anything. I simply ordered it so they would be in the same place at the same time. Their actions and choices are entirely their own. She will be in no more danger with the Feanorians than she would with 'Gil-galang' and his merry men, as she is wont to think of them and I think she fully realises this."

The other shoe dropped for the Chief and he laughed outright. "Aha, you want her out of the way! No more little night-time love trysts with Gary or Eonwe for her. What a party pooper you are, spoiling such innocent pleasures!"

Namo joined in the laughter, causing Vaire, who was passing by the open door to her husband's sanctum, to peek round it. She shook her head and smiled at the much feared Lord of Mandos and the mortal man both laughing uproariously over the chessboard. She could quite clearly see what they were doing, but said nothing. Instead she walked back to her tapestry room with an immensely thoughtful look on her face. So, those two were meddling were they? Well two, or maybe even three or four, can play at that game.

She viewed her tapestry of the current events in which she was constantly weaving incidents and sent out a thought message to Varda. Only a scant few moments later Varda herself appeared in a sparkle of stardust.

"You called?" She said archly. Her silvery laughter bubbled out and filled the room.

Vaire smiled. "My husband and his guest are doing a little dabbling in the affairs in Middle Earth. I know you already have Olorin there acting on your behalf, but I believe that we should try to offset some of this mischief those two are brewing."

Varda's beautiful eyes lit up with interest and she moved her chair a little closer. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

ooOoo

**The Feanorian camp somewhere in Beleriand**

Elrond bent down and lifted Kim 's hand to check her pulse which was steady and strong. He then placed a cool hand on her brow to reassure himself there was no fever present.

Elros hunkered down beside him. "Is she well?"

"I believe so. As well as can be expected at any rate." Elrond said quietly. "There were no apparent injuries. I believe she was just distressed and in a shocked state. The sleep and a decent meal will do wonders for her."

Elros scratched his chin. "Think you that we should wake her up to give her something to eat?"

His brother stood up and shook his head. "Let her sleep in comfort while she may. We have at least two days hard riding before we reach the outer battle-groups of the Host and at least another half a day until we reach the main Elven encampment. I doubt that Uncle Maedhros will allow us to stop for this long again in one spot. He only did so this time because Maglor pleaded on her behalf."

Elros picked up the knife that his brother had carefully laid down beside her after he had helped her get comfortable. His dark, delicately arched brows knitted together in perplexity. "This dagger is the work of a fine Elven smith and quite ancient by the look of it. How does an Edain woman come to be in possession of such a thing?"

"Perhaps she stole it." Maedhros dropped down beside them and held his hand out for the dagger, which Elros gave to him. He turned it over carefully, scrutinised the runes etched delicately along the fine curved blade and frowned. "I know this piece. I believe it is one made by Adar at Daeradar's request when he was first courting Indis. I do not believe that Adar was pleased to do it. I have heard him say many times that he had rather melted it down than give it to the woman who stole our Daernaneth's place in Daeradar's life."

Elros stared at the dagger in fascination. "So it was made on the Blessed Isle then?"

Maedhros nodded. "Which still begs the question of how an woman such as this has possession of it. Unless some scion of Ingwion's house inherited it and gave it to her as a favour of sorts. I would not have thought she would have been some Vanyarin whelp's fancy though." He placed the knife back down and picked up the finely worked, but plain leathern scabbard which had been strapped to a belt around Kim's waist.

"There was no sword." Elrond pointed out quietly.

Maedhros shrugged. "She had none when I came across her and the orc, just the knife. Perhaps she was running away from the orc and dropped it. The leather work is of Elven design for sure." He glanced over at Kim's sleeping form and grinned. "I see you have cleaned her face a little, she is a lot prettier without the dirt."

Elrond glanced at Kim and smiled. "What will we do with her? She seems to have no husband or protector of any kind."

Maedhros threw his head back and shouted with laughter. "Husband? The Edain often do not take husbands little one. Sometimes their women offer their bodies to the highest bidder. I see no rings on her finger. Mayhap she was following one of the Edain battle groups and they discharged themselves of her when they discovered she was with child?"

Elrond shook his head. "I think not. Her pregnancy is in its very early days. The Edain are not usually aware of the moment of conception. I do not think even _she _realises that she carries a child within her." He gazed across at Kim again and studied her face carefully. "I do not believe that she is some tavern whore. I do not get that impression at all."

"Well, we shall take her with us and let Lord Eonwe decide as to what should be done with her then. He can perhaps send her up to the northern coast with whatever refugees the Host come across next." He shrugged again rather carelessly. "I care not. Perhaps we should give her to one of the Edain armies for them to look after instead and save the Herald of Manwe the trouble. She _is _one of their kind after all."

Elrond's face paled. "No." His tone was emphatic. " I do not think that would be wise. I have seen the way the men treat the women who work for them. Little better than slaves. She is with child and would not survive it."

Maedhros raised one eyebrow. "She is pregnant Elrond, not sick. Edain women give birth in the fields and then go back to work."

"Nevertheless I will not allow it." Elrond's voice was firm. His dark eyebrows were drawn together in a straight line and there was a stubborn set to his mouth. Elros chuckled to himself. It was no use arguing with his twin when he was in that sort of mood. He could be remarkably stubborn when he chose to be. However he could also see by Maedhros' expression that he was deliberately teasing Elrond. A sly wink from the red-haired elf in Elros' direction confirmed this.

"You seek to tell me what to do youngling?" Maedhros enquired in a stern voice.

Elrond flushed. "I would not normally be so discourteous Uncle as you well know, however in matters of healing I will stand by everything I have said." He said stiffly.

Maedhros laughed and clapped Elrond on the shoulder. "Peace child. I was merely teasing you. As it happens I agree with you about the way the secondborn treat their female camp followers. Besides, she showed great courage when faced with a deadly enemy. She did not fold into a weeping heap when she saw the wolf, but prepared to defend herself. For that she gets my respect at least. Besides which, I get the feeling that the orc had not come across her by accident. He was hunting her for some purpose I cannot fathom. He only ran away when I came on the scene. That alone is interesting enough for me to hand her over to Eonwe. There is more to her than meets the eye methinks." He got to his feet in one fluid movement and gestured with his head towards Kim as he walked away towards the main camp-fire. "She is awake by the way. You might want to get her some of that hot stew. She will need all her strength for the hard riding we have to do."

Elros got to his feet and went over to the cooking pot. While he was putting some of the vegetable stew in a bowl that he borrowed from the one of the other Elves, Elrond helped Kim into a sitting position.

Elrond gestured towards the bowl that his twin was carrying carefully across to them. He pointed to her mouth and then made eating motions with his fingers towards his own mouth.

"Eat?" Kim asked shyly. The delicious smell of the stew tortured her nostrils and she could feel herself salivating. She nodded vigorously and pointed to herself. "Hungry."

Elrond grinned. "Eet, yes. Hungaree?" He frowned at himself struggling with the strange Westron she spoke.

Kim was utterly delighted that she could make herself understood to these lads, because lads they obviously were, despite their height. They also had slightly broader physiques than the other Elves which made her wonder if they had some kind of mixed blood in them.

She made short work of the stew, soaking up the gravy with the remains of the hard bread they had given her as a spoon and leaned back in relief. She pointed to the empty dish. "Thank you."

This time it was Elros who grinned at her. "Le hannon." He said and she looked at him questioningly. "Le hannon. Thank yew." He repeated and she laughed merrily and duly repeated the Sindarin for thank you.

Both the twins then caught on and started to teach her the basic words. They pointed to an object, she said it in English, or Westron as they thought, and they said the Sindarin for it.

Maglor sat down at the fireside with his brother and glanced over at the three youngsters laughing and giggling over the mispronunciation. "They seem to have taken to our young Edain friend." He said mildly.

Maedhros looked up from mending a hole in his spare pair of leggings and laughed softly. "They are much of an age I think, in growth at least."

"You intend to hand her over to Eonwe." It was a statement rather than a question.

Maedhros frowned slightly. "I think it best. There is something not quite right about her and too many unanswered questions about her presence in those woods. Most, if not all of the Edain in this area have already fled north towards the Gulf of Falas. That orc was hunting her quite deliberately. I saw his actions before he made his presence felt between her and the wolf. I believe that Eonwe will need to know. In any case he is in more of a position to deal with her properly."

Maglor nodded, reached over for his pack and took out a small harp. He began to tune it, making a number of beautiful ripples of random notes sound across the strings. Those of the group not on watch drew closer to the fire. To hear the voice of Maglor was a wonderful thing and not to be missed. The laughter and banter from Kim and the twins slowly dwindled and went quiet as Maglor's glorious voice filled the camp.

Kim thought she had never heard anything so beautiful in her entire life. It was alternately joyous and mournful. She lay back in the blankets and her eyelids slowly closed. All her worries and concerns over Gary and her situation faded into nothing and she slept soundly once again.

Elrond smiled when he saw how peacefully she slept. He gently drew her blanket up to her chin and then drew his own cloak around him and lay down on one side of her. Elros did the same on the other side of her. It was probably the most protected and safest she had been since the night she had spent in Gary's arms only a short twenty four hours earlier.

OoOoo

**Interlude in Beleriand**

It had to be said that neither Eonwe nor Gary had the same peaceful night's sleep their lady love was enjoying. Eonwe sat beside the camp-fire in Gil-galad's camp and brooded on events. Gary would have done the same except that Tulcas wouldn't let him brood, besides which he had all of Eonwe's duties as Commander of the Host to carry out, not to mention battle orders for the whole of the massed armies to plan. He finally fell into his cot in the tent and prayed for sleep. But it was not to be. Finarfin and Ingwion came in with some bottles of fine Vanyarin wine which they proceeded to uncork and pour into goblets. Tulcas joined them with alacrity, he was never far away when the wine was being poured and the wine and laughter flowed.

After a while of stuffing the pillow over his ears and an abortive attempt to persuade them to hold their revels elsewhere, like perhaps at least a dozen leagues up the coast, Gary finally gave up and decided that if he couldn't beat them, all he could do was join them. The only thing that concerned him slightly was his alter ego's brooding. He sensed that Eonwe blamed himself for Kim's current situation, and whilst Gary was extremely concerned for her safety given that the scouts had found no further signs of her, he knew that there was little he could do about it so far away. Gil-galad and his people didn't seem to be providing the same distraction for Eonwe that Tulcas and the others were for him.

On second thoughts, perhaps he had the better part of the deal. At least he would get some sleep, thought Gary wryly. Being in charge of the Host of the Valar was not likely to be a pleasant experience with a monster hangover.

The other matter for concern was the continuing situation of Eonwe still being with Gil-galad, while Gary was with the Host and it was a concern they both shared. So far they had not switched back to their correct places and both were wondering why. Gary decided to mention it to Tulcas once the two Elven commanders had wended their slightly unsteady way back to their own tents. That's always supposing he could string two intelligent syllables together and as long as Tulcas could compose an intelligent, non-slurred reply. The odds did not look promising at all.

ooOoo

**The Halls of Lord Manwe and Lady Varda, Oiolosse, Taniquetil**

"Why have they not switched back yet?" Mused Manwe, almost to himself.

"Talking to yourself my beloved?" Varda slipped her arm around his waist and gazed up at her husband through her lashes.

Manwe sighed. "Eonwe and the mortal have not yet switched back. Eonwe is, as usual, alone and brooding darkly about it and his lover, the mortal is concerned but apparently drowning his sorrows in wine along with Ingwion, Finarfin and Tulcas. It strikes me that Tulcas is not a very good influence on any of them."

Varda dimpled at her husband. "Did Tulcas supply the wine then?"

"No." Manwe said slowly, staring into the east and frowning horribly. "I believe that Ingwion did that, but Tulcas should be showing some sign of responsibility. He is a Vala after all. He has the Valar's reputation to uphold."

Varda gazed in the same direction as her husband and her laughter tinkled around him when she saw Tulcas demonstrating some elaborate sword or perhaps a dance movement. It was difficult to really say which. His legs didn't seem to want to move in conjunction with each other and he ended up in an ungraceful heap on the floor, whereupon Finarfin and Ingwion laughed so much they could hardly draw breath or see for the tears and Gary fell backwards out of his chair. Further hilarity ensued when the two Elves and the Valar tried to be helpful and hoist him onto his feet. Rather a disaster considering they could hardly help themselves never mind anyone else.

"My love, I don't think _any_ of them can actually stand on their own two feet at the moment, never mind uphold anything as serious as a responsibility." She gently cupped her husband's face in her slender hand and drew it around to her. "Let them be Manwe. Their burdens are great and the mortal is sorely troubled. Allow them laughter while they may. Who knows what sorrow tomorrow might bring for them. My one worry is for Eonwe, he seems so alone in Gil-galad's camp. Would that _he_ had companions there who would chivvy him out of his brooding."

Manwe nodded slowly. "You are right as always my love. I will seek counsel from Eru though. I am concerned that they have not switched back to their rightful places. If I get an answer I can at least set Eonwe's mind at rest about that, even if I cannot tell him that his lady is well and safe. God knows what Eru was thinking allowing her to be rescued by Feanor's sons."

Varda wisely decided not to tell her husband that it was hardly the will of Eru that had placed the Feanorians in the position of rescuing Kim.

She would keep her own and Vaire's counsel about that matter. For the time being anyway.

ooOo


	33. Explanations and Outbursts

**The camp of Ereinion Gil-galad, somewhere in the boonies of Beleriand - a reflective interlude  
**

"A penny for your thoughts."

Eonwe had been so locked away in his thoughts that he jumped a little when Jim sat down beside him. He smiled at the young police officer. "I am not sure they are worth as much as that." He said tiredly.

"Well no need to ask what you're thinking about." Jim reached out with a stick and poked the slumbering fire into sparks of life. The sudden flare of warmth lit Eonwe's face up and Jim could see the worry etched into it. "If I was worried about anything, my old desk sergeant used to ask, if you can't do anything about something, what do you do?"

A ghost of a smile passed across Eonwe's lips. "And what _do_ you do?" He asked softly.

"You do nothing, because there isn't anything you _can _do and there's no use fretting about it."

Eonwe laughed softly. "Your desk sergeant was a wise man." He watched the flames flickering and wondered whether Kim was also watching flames and fearing for her life. A stab of deep pain hit him square in the chest at the thought of her being hurt or killed and his child destroyed, followed by a surge of white hot rage.

Jim saw his companion's eyes light up with anger, but wisely said nothing to fuel it. "You should try and get some sleep Gary . Tomorrow is another day and you don't know what news the scouts will bring back."

"You appear so calm." Eonwe said quietly. "Yet you and Kim seemed to have struck up a friendship."

Jim drew some meaningless squiggles in the dirt near the fire with his forefinger. "Are you asking whether I am concerned or worried? If so, then the answer is yes, but I've been on a few cases where children or adults have been missing during my short career as a policeman. At first you worry for the person. You hang on every single bit of news that comes in to the point of obsession. Every day that passes is one day off someone's life, or so you feel. Then you hit the worst part when days have passed and there's nothing. That's when you assume that whoever it is has to be dead. The profiling people say that there is a system to count the chances of somebody surviving a kidnapping based on whether or not the kidnapper has made a demand for payment. If he or she has, then the longer the negotiations last, the longer the victim is likely to survive." He shrugged. "Not every kidnapper takes their victims for money though. Sometimes, and often in the case of children, molestation is the primary objective, in which case usually the child is already dead by the time the disappearance has been noted by the parents or carers. Somewhere along the line you develop a 'where there's life and no evidence of death, there's hope' philosophy. You have to otherwise you go insane."

Eonwe realised that by telling him all of this, Jim was trying to rationalise his own feelings on the matter and that alone told him that Jim was very worried for Kim indeed. More worried than he would have been in his ordinary life in the future. Kim had not been kidnapped by someone bent on extorting large sums of money, nor had she been taken by some serial killer. Something very, very different had her, something not very human at all, with no consideration for life in any form, including its own kind. Orcs were driven by their impulses; hunt, eat, take pleasure and kill.

A niggling feeling in his mind told him that the Orc would probably keep Kim alive, for the time being anyway. She was his bargaining chip, but for what purpose?

_Perhaps she's bait. _Gary's thoughts sounded in the back of Eonwe's mind.

_But for what?_ Queried the Herald. _There is no way he could know of her importance to you and I and it is doubtful he would know about the child._

_I'm not so sure._ Gary responded. _He was obviously watching us and hanging about for some reason, if it was just about the weapons he would have hotfooted it straight to Thangorodrim for his reward. I don't believe he knows about the baby, but if he did, it would just be another bargaining chip. I think he's trying to draw you out, away from the main part of the Host; or rather someone is trying to draw you out, because I truly don't think that he has that level of intelligence._

_Morgoth?_ Eonwe queried. _I doubt that he would go to that trouble since he knows that he and I will eventually face one another anyway. He knows he will survive since I have no authority to condemn him to death and insufficient power to kill him. He only has two courses open to him. He either prevails against the Host and shadow will completely cover Arda Marred or we will prevail and capture him._

_Well the way I see it._ Gary mused. _Whoever it is wants you to push on to Thangorodrim now, and to be honest, with the amount of small skirmishing groups and the larger battle groups he has at his disposal all around this area at the moment, going straight up to take him on would mean that you avoid most of them to get there and then they bite you right in the ass when you least expect it. The main thing that you have going for you right now is time; time to sweep the area clean and leave yourself a clear face to face battlefield. Because once you get there, you need it to be just you and him because he's going to throw whatever big guns he has at his disposal at you. You can't afford to be attacked from the rear as well._

"I'm sorry Gary; I probably just bored you to tears." Jim 's voice interposed into Eonwe's silent conversation with Gary . He stood up and pressed the Herald's shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"No, no Jim. I appreciate that you took the time to talk to me." Eonwe caught at his arm and tried to reassure him. "I had turned inward and was not giving the real situation the consideration I needed to give it. I am in your debt, I assure you. I hope you feel that you can always talk to me."

In the moment that Eonwe touched him, Jim had an epiphany. The feeling that Gary 's speech had altered, that his whole demeanour had begun to change returned to him a thousand-fold and he knew without a doubt that this was not Gary he was talking to. A million little things suddenly became crystal clear. Gary 's quiet talks with the Chief, the fact that they had become closeted with each other a lot more afterwards and the deference of many of the Elves. It was clear that the Chief and the Elves had also guessed. Not to mention the transformation in battle than Gary had undergone and the physical changes which were manifesting themselves in front of him.

This was not Gary , or, it was the new and improved version of Gary ; and he also now fully understood why Kim had been so wigged out by everything.

"You're not Gary are you?" He blurted out before he could stop himself. "You're something else entirely."

Eonwe stood up calmly and faced the young copper over the fire. "Would there be any point in trying to argue with you?" He asked ruefully. He began to allow the full ambience of his Maia being suffuse him until he appeared as he looked to the Elves and those of the Blessed Realm.

The High King, Celeborn and the other Elves who were awake did not miss the transformation and drew closer to the tableaux being played out near the camp-fire although they didn't interfere. Rion and Noruthalion rose up from where they were sitting awaiting their watch with glad smiles on their faces as their Lord and Commander finally revealed himself.

"Who _are _you?" Jim whispered. Gary 's face was so bright he could hardly bear to look at him in the eye.

"I am the Maia Eonwe, Herald of Manwe, Lord of the Breath and Air of all Arda and the Elder King of all Arda. I am also the Captain and Commander of the Host of the Valar." Eonwe said quietly. "But in _your_ time I am Major Gary Matthews of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers and hold the position of Adjutant to my present unit of which Kim Freeman is a serving Senior Rank and Chief Knowles is the Chief Clerk of the unit."

Jim was stunned, so stunned that he had to sit down. "But how?" He stuttered. "I mean you're over there leading the Host and you're here as well? How can there be two versions of you?"

Eonwe sensed Gary 's breathless silence in the back of his mind and gave a hollow laugh. "There cannot of course. Eventually my future self, Gary and I will merge back into one person. Morgoth has created something called a temporal causality which has resulted in our two timelines meeting. At the point of them meeting, my future self and the rest of you were pulled into this timeline. It is Lord Manwe's and my belief that this was triggered off by Morgoth's Orc raiding party coming too close to the rift in time caused by his meddling. They were pulled through; as you were into a sort of No-man's Land between the two timelines and in their wanderings they happened across a group of modern soldiers on a training course in the Forest of Dean . The rest of that, you know about. They saw the weapons in use. Morgoth saw this through their eyes and wanted the weapons to use against the Host, so he ordered Thadak the Orc who has the weapons and who…" He stumbled a little on this, but recovered himself quickly. "…who has Kim to bring them to him. However Thadak and the others must have seen Kim and wanted her for pleasure. So they hunted her rather than kill her along with the other soldiers. Since then she has somehow become part of the bargaining chip Morgoth is using to get Thadak to bring the weapons to him."

"You and Gary are switching bodies back and forth because the closer you are in proximity, the less are the differences between you." Said Jim softly. "That's why Kim was so confused, why she isn't sure of your feelings towards her. It was you with her the other night. You felt guilty because of Gary and left her."

Eonwe nodded and swallowed past a huge lump that had appeared in his throat. "Yes…" He whispered. "And it was the stupidest thing I could have done. I should have stayed with her and now I have lost her." He sank back down, buried his face in his hands and wept.

At this point Gil-galad stepped from the shadows into the firelight. He gently laid a comforting hand on Eonwe's shoulder and smiled at Jim . "Well now you all know everything I have known from almost the beginning. However my main concern at the moment is why Lord Eonwe has not gone back to his rightful place at the head of the Host yet."

Eonwe collected himself and looked up at the High King. "I believe that Gary and I can answer that." He said quietly. "We believe that this is Eru's doing; a means of protecting me from myself if you will. I will not deceive you. Kim and I have bonded with each other, but I am sure you will have understood this from the other evening. She, however, is unaware of the importance of the link that has been created, but as you will appreciate her welfare is of paramount importance to me. Morgoth also knows this now, as does, we believe, the Orc we are chasing down. We also believe that he has taken Kim in addition to the modern weapons in order to force my hand in the hopes that I will lead the Host on an abortive early strike against Thangorodrim but for what reason we do not know. Although Gary and I are theoretically one and the same person, we are still separate enough that my action in bonding with her has not affected him, apart from making him very irritated with me." He gave a wry grin and a ripple of laughter spread around those listening. "Because he is not as emotionally affected at present he is less likely to allow himself to be drawn into leading the Host north before we have routed all of Morgoth's perimeter troops and skirmishing parties. I am here so that, with your help, I can catch up with Thadak before he gets much further north and when I do he will suffer greatly. Gary will continue to lead the Host in my absence with the help of Lord Tulcas and the commanders of the Noldorin and Vanyarin armies. This will also serve to keep us apart until I have retrieved the weaponry."

Cirdan stepped forward and held his hand out to Eonwe, who took it in both of his. "Welcome to our merry little band Lord Eonwe. We may not be able to offer you the comforts befitting the Herald of Manwe, but we will help you get those weapons and get your lady back to you."

Eonwe let fly with one of his devastating smiles, which had the usual effect on all and sundry, except perhaps Jim who was still standing on the other side of the camp fire with a bewildered and rather dazed look on his face.

_You need to talk to him. _Gary urged. _He won't know how to react to you now.__Reassure him that he isn't on his own._

"Jim..." Eonwe held out his hands to the policeman and desperately sought the words that would reassure the young man that he was no different to the man Jim had accepted as one of his companions. It struck Eonwe that Gary was right, Jim had to feel alone and abandoned at this moment. Kim was wherever the orc was taking her, Chief Knowles was with Celebrimbor and the Naugrim trying to craft ammunition and Gary himself was leagues away with the armies of the West. Eonwe was simply all Jim had of his world to hang onto.

Jim stared at the Maia for a long moment. He looked like Gary, he even managed to act like Gary most of the time. In this world of dramatically ever-changing circumstances Jim badly wanted to believe that he, Gary, Kim and the Chief would get back safely to their own world and their own time, but the events of the past twenty four hours had rocked his solid belief that all was going to be well. Now he was beginning to understand that there was a distinct possibility that none of them might get back home; that he might never see his mum, dad or his grandma again. In fact Kim could possibly be dead even now. Being alone in a world that wasn't his was a thought he didn't want to give countenance to at all. It was all just too much.

"I just want to go home. I miss my mum and dad." He finally said in a miserable little voice and his tears overflowed.

There. It had finally spilled out. Jim, who had held it together, hacked and slashed his way through orcs by Gary's side and who had strived to keep his own and everyone else's spirit up during their trials was having his moment of weakness and it wasn't only Eonwe's heart that went out to him. However before anyone else could say or do anything to comfort him, Eonwe had crossed the short distance between them, pulled him into a tight embrace and held him as he clutched onto the Herald and hiccuped and sobbed into Gary's combat jacket.

After a few moments of this touching emotional outburst it began to dawn on Eonwe that Jim was actually holding him in a death grip and his air supply was beginning to dwindle. Not to mention the front of his jacket was soggy with tears and snot. He vainly tried to loosen the the young policeman's grip to no avail and eventually managed to gasp out. "Uh...Jim? Oxygen... becoming... a huge issue here."

Jim blushed bright red and let him go. "Sorry mate." He said apologetically. "Dunno what came over me. I made a bit of a mess on your combat jacket as well."

He took off his bandanna and handed it to Eonwe who dabbed gingerly at the large shiny wet patch, but instead of saying what he intended to say, which was something like "'it doesn't matter Jim, it will soon dry", what actually came out courtesy of Gary inside Eonwe's head was something quite different. It did however break whatever tension had existed between them prior to that point.

"Urggh...ewww Jim! You put snot all over my jacket. You twat. That's fucking disgusting." Eonwe flushed with embarrassment and clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was far too late. The damage was done.

Jim grinned smugly at Eonwe. "That'll fucking teach you to switch bodies on me you bastard!"

Despite being shocked at what he'd inadvertently blurted out, Eonwe let out a snort of amusement at the wicked note in Jim's voice and the next they knew they were both whooping and hooting with uncontrollable laughter.

The astonished Elves, who hadn't really understood a word of what had just passed between the Herald and Jim were treated to the spectacle of both of them falling about and totally cracking up, but it did bring smiles to quite a few faces in the camp.

"They're obviously quite mad, both of them." Celeborn remarked dryly. "Are we absolutely sure we want an insane Maia along with us on this venture?"

The High King chuckled. "Wasn't meeting up with Eonwe what we intended all along?" He asked innocently. "He had to be a little insane to come here and take Morgoth on in the first place."

They were interrupted by Erestor and two of the scouts riding back into camp which brought the hilarity to an abrupt end. He dismounted and handed his horse over to one of the guard, then he approached Gil-galad and bowed to him. "Mae govannen Hir nin."

"Well met Master Erestor, what news?" Asked the High King.

"We found sign, half a league north of here."

Eonwe stepped forward eagerly. "And Kim? Is there any sign of her?"

Erestor shook his head and Eonwe's heart sank. "I am not sure Garee. It is difficult to tell since he has left the road to cross open country on a direct route north to Thangorodrim. The ground is rocky and we found no definite tracks." He spoke slowly so that Jim could pick up on what was being said.

"Then how do you know it's him?" Jim asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

Erestor dropped some three rounds of unspent ammunition into Eonwe's palm.

"They must have worked loose from the magazine." Eonwe looked up at Erestor who had a faint smile on his lips. "There is more?"

Erestor nodded. "There is. The orc is wounded. There are no footprints and very few other tracks, but he is leaving a trail of blood that a child could follow. We found the broken shaft of an arrow among the bushes. An Elven arrow but we could see no one in pursuit of him."

Celeborn started forward eagerly. "Then we have him!"

Gil-galad nodded at Glorfindel who immediately gave orders to break camp. An hour later they were off in pursuit of Thadak and the weapons.

ooOoo


	34. Goodbye swords, hello speeding bullets

"Neither fire nor wind, birth nor death can erase our good deeds" - **Gautama Buddha**

"You can have my gun when you pry it from my paranoid,  
mentally disturbed, physically-abusive, cold, dead hand." - **Bumper Sticker**

**Somewhere in Beleriand, in the middle of nowhere**

Celebrimbor halted his and the Chief's small party and dismounted. He surveyed the area and then bent down to examine the earth. Olorin wondered whether or not to comment on his actions because as an Istari and a Maia he knew exactly what the young Smith was doing. Any fool could see that a large party had been encamped there for a number of hours, yet not large enough a number to account for Gil-galad's small army. After a few minutes consideration and realising that Celebrimbor wasn't about to hand out any explanations to the ignorant mortals in his party any time soon, he eventually decided to ask an innocent question.

"What are you looking for?" Was what finally emerged.

Celebrimbor flashed a brief beautiful smile at Olorin and stood up. He turned slowly on the spot, his keen grey eyes raking the area one last time. "Not looking _for, _Chief, looking _at_."

Olorin expelled a sigh. How typical of an Elf to be so evasive. On the other hand if an Elf, for once, had given a straightforward answer to a straightforward question without bringing the stars or the trees into it, Olorin would probably have fallen off the horse in shock, so at least he was being consistent.

"Oookay." He said dredging up the Chief's modern vernacular. "So what exactly are you looking _at_?" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

The Smith mounted back up on his horse and cocked an eyebrow at Olorin. "This was used as a temporary encampment not twenty-four hours ago. A fairly large mounted party, most probably Elven, heavily armed for fighting. They hid their tracks well from anyone other than another Elf; however they also left in a hurry. Possibly one of the rear skirmishing parties sent out by the Host of the Valar doing a sweep up of enemy stragglers left over from the main army's sweep through."

"You got all of that from sniffing the ground?" Olorin tried not to smile and succeeded in muting it to a twitch of his lips.

Celebrimbor didn't miss the twitch of the lips and he laughed. "I am sure that it looked very much like that to you, but I was merely examining the signs closely. The trees, bushes and vegetation around us can tell us a great deal."

OIorin raised one eyebrow. "I'll take your word for that. Should we be worried about it? I mean how do you know it wasn't Orcs?"

"No." Celebrimbor shook his head. "I doubt there is anything of great import in it and this was no Orc camp. If it had been Orc then there would be a lot more to see."

Olorin nodded sagely at this. "Ah yes, not the tidiest of folk I imagine."

All of the elves in the party laughed at this. "Indeed not." One of them murmured with a smile.

"And now?" Asked Olorin.

Celebrimbor spurred his horse. "And now we ride to the High King and Garee with this 'ammo' of yours as you term it, then perhaps you will let me at least handle this strange weapon once." He shot an engaging and hopeful grin Olorin's way.

Privately Olorin was a little doubtful as to whether they should have given such a talented young ellon from such a seemingly tainted family access to such a weapon, but he couldn't help but be impressed with his expertise when it came to making the ammunition. He had a sudden vision of Celebrimbor working feverishly in some forge, casting weapon parts and ammunition and causing generalised mayhem with them. Whole armies of elves armed with those ugly death-dealing things marched in front of his inner vision and he shuddered slightly.

Then as that inner visual faded, it was immediately replaced with another. He saw Celebrimbor again, but this time all the life was gone from those beautiful, incandescent grey eyes and his features were bloody and lifeless, mouth set in the rictus of horrifying and painful death and his ruined naked body tied to poles in the fashion of a banner. The shock of it nearly sent Olorin reeling from his horse. There was no way of knowing who was responsible for that mental vision, but it came with soft words from the unknown messenger which said "_Pride goeth before a fall_."

A strong hand shot out and steadied him. "Be careful." One of the older elves who acted as healer in their party looked closely at him in concern. "Are you well?"

Olorin swallowed back the hot tears that had sprung to his eyes at the sight of Celebrimbor so undone. "Yes." He said hoarsely. "It was nothing, I just turned my head too fast."

"It is not long since you are recovered from a bad injury." The Elf scolded. "This journey was perhaps too much too soon. Perhaps I should ask Lord Celebrimbor to stop for a while."

He looked as though he was about to attract the Smith's attention, but Olorin grasped his sleeve and shook his head.

"No. Please don't make a fuss. I'm fine really I am. I don't want to be the cause of any delay to us getting this ammunition to Major Matthews. A lot depends on it."

The Elf stared intently at him and then nodded. "Very well, but if you feel light-headed again you must tell me. If you become sick again you will delay us a lot longer than just a few hours spent resting on the ground rather than on horseback."

Olorin managed a weak smile. "Of course, I promise I'll be a good boy."

The Elf gave a slightly derisive snort of laughter, but he kept a weather eye on Olorin as they rode in silence and Olorin knew it. Still the silence gave him some much-needed time to recover his equilibrium, yet in the back of his mind the vision persisted to the point that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had been accorded a premonition of Celebrimbor's eventual fate. It distressed him beyond belief to even contemplate it.

_It will give you no comfort to know this my Olorin. _Varda's sympathetic voice whispered in his ear. _But Celebrimbor will not be allowed to languish in the Halls of Waiting at Namo's will. He will not carry the burden of oaths taken when he was not old enough to make such decisions for himself. And his life on Arda Marred will not prove in vain. Even as he will unwittingly be instrumental in the means of ruin to Middle Earth, he will also be responsible for providing the means of protection for many of the Eldar and in turn many of the Secondborn in the dark days._

Olorin tried to feel comforted, but the words of comfort tasted like ash on his tongue.

ooOoo

**Meanwhile...back at the General Officer Commanding 4 Division's office, Aldershot, Hampshire, United Kingdom...**

The General drew bushy grey eyebrows together and glowered at the motley assortment of officers, civilians and other odd bods assembled in his large office. His keen eyes finally rested on one who was doing his level best to try to avoid being seen, by anyone it had to be said, but especially the scary General and that vicious hell-beast of a dog of his. Young Dr Norman, head of the research team at the Forest of Dean pushed his glasses up his nose, slunk behind a particularly large, shambling bear of a Captain from the Military Liaison Team and tried to blend in with the furniture.

The aforesaid vicious hell-beast was busy trotting around and sniffing ankles, obviously selecting his next victim from the delightful smorgasbord arrayed before him. Inspector Alun Davis chuckled to himself at the sight of some of England's finest officers giving way to their fear in the face of such a heinous enemy and sat down in one of the easy chairs. He whistled softly to the hell-beast who came prancing over, fluffy tail wagging furiously and ridiculously large pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. He scratched it behind its ears eliciting an almost beatific silence from the creature. The military present in the room heaved a collective sigh of relief as they were rescued from a fate worse than death at the hands of the General's beloved Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Mugger.

"So. Do _any_ of you have any good news to tell me?" The General sounded more than a little irritated. "I am disappointed gentlemen. Here we have the finest brains in Britain working on this problem. It has been just over two weeks and we are still missing four people and fourteen weapons. Thousands of pounds of taxpayer's money are being spent on maintaining a watch in the Forest of Dean and what do we have to show for it? Hmmm? What do you have to say for yourselves? Questions will be asked by the _public_ and what will we tell them? Hmmm?" He raised his eyebrows until they looked for all the world like two wiggly grey caterpillars stuck to his forehead just below his hairline. He made the word 'public' sound like the most hideous blasphemy in the entire universe.

One of the junior officers fixated on the grey caterpillars. He appeared to be unduly fascinated by the seemingly independent life the eyebrows had on the General's craggy face. Unfortunately, staring open-mouthed at his eyebrows wasn't the way to survive a meeting with said General. All it did was make him aware that he was being stared at. The caterpillars lowered ominously and drew together in a terrifying scowl.

"WELL?" The General thundered at the poor hapless officer who went pale, then fire engine red and let out a high-pitched bray of laughter which he tried to strangle in vain as it ricocheted around the room of horrified people. The braying laughter and subsequent strangled sobbing sound made everyone in the room turn around, look at the poor young man and thank the gods that it wasn't them.

The Chief of Staff rolled his eyes and muttered "Oh dear _god_." under his breath. He gestured to the Chief Clerk. "Get that idiot out of here before the Old Man dismembers him in public without an anaesthetic." He said sotto voce. "We'll _never_ get the blood out of the carpets."

The Chief Clerk sniggered softly. "Yes sir."

Moment later he was pushing the almost hysterical young officer out of the door at the back of the office and past the General's PA who grinned and shook her head. "And another one bites the dust?" She asked.

The Chief Clerk sniggered again. "There'll be more casualties before the morning is out Pat. I hope you got your cleaning clothes on, there'll be blood and guts from arsehole to breakfast time before the Old Man is finished."

"Aw he's okay. He's quite a poppet if you just get on the right side of him. His bark's worse than his bite."

The Chief Clerk looked doubtful. "Okay, if you say so. If I'm not out by supper time send in the hounds! Once more unto the breach dear friends..." He made a dramatic Sarah Bernhard gesture, back of hand to forehead, and went back into the meeting, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Pat laughed softly to herself and started sorting out the General's diary.

ooOoo

Long after the visitors had gone, most with great relief it had to be said, the General was left alone in his office with the Chief of Staff and Alun Davies. Mugger had long since become bored with the proceedings and now, with a dearth of people to torment, had retired to his basket behind the General's desk with his favourite squeaky rubber chew toy and a couple of treats.

The General didn't speak for a fairly long time after the meeting had ended; instead he stood at the windows of the balcony that looked out over the front of the main 4 Division HQ building staring out over Aldershot . He could see people coming and going, getting off buses, soldiers going about their duties. He could even see the building works for the new Health Centre. Life was going about its business as usual, but the General was finding it hard to get his mind off four people whose lives were most certainly not going about their usual business. Nobody was even sure they were still alive.

He may have developed this crusty exterior, but as his PA had remarked, inside he was quite a soft-natured man and his heart ached to think of four people with their lives in front of them being irretrievably lost.

Oh yes, that clever young chap Dr Norman had earnestly looked up into the General's grim face and told him that the opening to the rift was stable, but what did _that _mean for the four souls lost inside it? Had they found shelter in an age where everything would be so primitive to them and, more urgently, what use would those creatures put the modern weapons to? On a best case scenario they would become frustrated because the weapons would be too sophisticated for them to figure out and bash their victims on the head with it, but on a worst case scenario, they may well figure out how to use them or have someone who _did _have the savvy to do it. Modern weapons in a primitive environment just didn't bear thinking about. Hopefully the ammunition would run out long before they caused wholesale mayhem.

The General was fully aware that this was just many of the matters of great importance that he had to deal with on a daily basis as the Commander of a whole division that covered the South East and South West of England, but given the importance and high level security classification that had been placed on it by the Security Agency who regularly briefed the Prime Minister on developments, he was aware that the briefings he gave them went right up to the top. UK Eyes Only.

So far, what they had were a great number of species of animals who had run through the rift or portal or whatever it was, obviously they were running from something. Being the usual paranoid modern race of man and ever suspicious, there was the overriding fear that those animals would carry diseases through to a different age and therefore all of them, hopefully, had been quarantined. However what the government veterinarians had discovered was that far from being a threat, their systems and genetic strains were purer than most modern versions of the various species and in fact they were in more danger of being harmed than actually being harmful.

All of them were being kept in a nearby animal sanctuary under strict quarantine regulations and were being vaccinated. They couldn't go back through the rift, so eventually after a period of observation; they would be released into the general animal population. In fact the chief veterinarian had stated that such pure strains of the various species could only help to strengthen the existing population and in a couple of cases, would actually restart a species that was almost extinct. These latter creatures would be taken to one of the Zoo's and put on a breeding and strengthening programme.

The General smiled to himself at that, the one bright part of a wholly dreadful business, at least something good had come from the terrible situation. Now all they needed was to get their people back bright, whole and healthy.

He turned away from the window and sat down at his desk. Neither the Chief of Staff or Alun Davies made any comment, but the Chief of Staff got up and poured the General a hot cup of tea from the tray his PA had brought just a few minutes earlier. He put it on the large desk, pushed it towards the General and sat back down. The General heaved a sigh and also sat, pausing a moment to drag his fingers through his thick springy grey hair.

He smiled his thanks at his Chief of Staff. "Much appreciated Bob. I reckon I will be completely bald or gaga by the time this business is concluded."

"I somehow doubt you will be either of those." The COS chuckled.

"I'm not so sure. How are the Knowles family and the family of that young policeman holding up though? I mean what can we tell them for god's sake? That we're sorry we lost your loved ones, but on the upside we have managed to save a couple of extinct species of rodent?" The General sounded close to despair. "Nothing that I was told in this meeting would give any family any kind of reassurance. I suppose in a way it's easier to think about when it comes to young Matthews and Sergeant Freeman, neither appear to have any family at all, but some of their colleagues from the unit are asking for news, and what do we tell them?"

The Chief of Staff sipped his tea thoughtfully. "General, all we can tell any of them is to do what they are doing already and that is to wait. We're all playing the waiting game with this and of course it's much worse for the families, but I just have this feeling that they are alive. I can't tell you why I believe that, I just do."

"That's very nice Bob and I hope you're right, I just wish you could pass your positive feeling my way." The General looked at Alun Davies who had been silent and sympathetic up till that point. "What about young PC Moore 's family? How are they holding up?"

"Well they're distressed and upset as you obviously realise. Our police counselling team are taking care of them and strangely enough, although the parents are slowly giving up hope as the days wear on, the grandmother insists the same as Bob here. She says that she knows her grandson and she can 'feel' him. She says they are all alive still. To be honest her conviction on this is the only thing keeping the parents from mourning their son as though he was dead. The father says his mother always seemed to see and feel more than other people." Davies shrugged. "I don't know, maybe she's right, a few weeks ago I might have pooh-poohed the whole idea, but given what's happened my thoughts on such things are up for grabs really."

The General picked up his cup and drained it in one go. "Ah well, back to the damn grind I suppose." He nodded at Bob and Alun Davies, picked up the phone and spoke to his PA. "Come in Pat would you? I have some stuff I need to dictate."

The Chief of Staff and Alun Davies took that as an official dismissal and took their leave of the harassed General.

Alun Davies started up the engine of his car and let it idle for a while before putting it into gear and starting on the long journey back. Normally the General's PA arranged for him to have a room overnight in the Government House Officers Mess, but this evening he had decided to go home and spend some time with his family. For some reason this business had made him more aware of the time he spent away from them, besides which he had this urgent need to just go home and see them.

All the way down the M4, the need to be home nagged at him. A fairly bad accident on the motorway with casualties by the look of it happened just past one of the Motorway Services and brought traffic to a slow crawl. He sat impatiently tapping the steering wheel. Part of him knew that as a police officer he should stop and see if there was anything he could do to help, but the message 'come home' was now sounding in his brain like a clarion call and it overruled everything else, even his sense of duty.

He called his wife and asked if everything was okay, with her, with the kids. For her part, she seemed confused as to the urgency in his tone and assured him all was well. Yet still, once past the accident area he put his foot down and reached a speed he wouldn't normally have dreamt of travelling at.

And the message still sounded in his brain.

**A few hours later……..**

Alun pulled into his driveway and sat behind the wheel for a few moments staring at the welcoming golden lights streaming out of the windows and allowed his thudding heart and pounding blood pressure to return to somewhere approaching normal. They were all fine, all safe. So why had he felt so concerned? Why the terrible and terrifying need to get back home. He gave a mental shrug. This case was affecting him more than all the others he had on his plate. It was obviously getting to him.

His wife hadn't shut the curtains yet and he watched his family's normal evening rituals through the windows. Shortly he would get out of his car, put his key in the front door and feel the warmth of his home and family surrounding him. His wife would smile as he kissed her and the kids would surround him with their chatter and daily nonsense, as all children do. They would sit down for supper and then watch some telly before the nightly battle to get the kids into bed. That was how it always happened and he thanked god for the fact that he was so lucky.

Then… just as he was reaching for the car door handle a strange lassitude swept over him and a dark veil covered his sight for mere seconds. He passed a hand across his eyes and tiredly rubbed at his temple. _I'm just tired_. He thought. _A good night's sleep is all I need._ He tried to grasp the handle again to open the car door, but to his bewilderment his hand passed right through it. He tried again, but it was like grasping at smoke.

"Oh bloody hell …." Was the last thing he remembered saying before everything went dark.

ooOoo


	35. Ill met by starlight

Where two raging fires meet together,  
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.  
Though little fire grows great with little wind,  
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.

**William Shakespeare**

Vaire shrank back from her tapestry in horror. How could this be? She sent a mind-speak message to Varda who appeared after a few seconds. She saw the distressed look on Vaire's face and took both her hands in her own.

"My dear, whatever is it? What is wrong?"

Vaire stared into Varda's starlit eyes, but saw nothing of their beauty. "The path we opened, Morgoth has intercepted it. He has used it for his own ends." She gasped.

Varda felt chilled to her very soul. The original plan had been quite simple. In order to simplify the situation for Eonwe/Gary, Gil-galad and everyone concerned and for her own safety and that of her unborn child, Varda and Vaire had decided that Kim needed to be returned home to her own time away from the meddling hands of Namo and Chief Knowles and certainly away from the self-destructive Feanorians.

True, the sons of Earendil would undoubtedly protect her to the best of their ability despite the fact that they were not far out of their majority and no doubt Maglor would try to defend her if it became necessary, but where the constant quest for the Silmarils was concerned, those remaining Feanorian boys, Maedhros and Maglor tended to be very blinkered. Neither would hesitate to push one pregnant mortal woman to one side if the madness came upon them, whether she was the future mother of the Herald of Manwe's child or not.

Every move that Namo and the Chief made in _their_ game and every mile covered by the Feanorians merely moved her closer to the last place she needed to be; in the forefront of a massive battle. As long as Eonwe knew she was in danger, his mind would not be on the monstrous task to hand, that of capturing Morgoth and bringing Thangorodrim down around his ears let alone the task of retrieving technology that had no place in Arda in the First Age. If he knew that Kim was safe in her own time, it would make it easier for him to bear the intervening millennia and deal with his task. This was, of course, supposing that he and Gary did not manage to stay apart or that the pursuit of Thadak and the weapons took so long that their personas joined up to be one being once again.

The cunning plan had been to, temporarily but safely, transport one of the only other modern mortals who had been near or within the rift when it happened and make it possible for him to return home with Kim in tow. However it could not just be any mortal from the future. It had to be someone who had had contact with the rift at the time the temporal causality formed and it had to be someone who Kim would know and would trust. That mortal just happened to be Detective Inspector Alun Davies.

Vaire's eyes filled with tears. "What should we do?" She whispered.

"We will have to tell Manwe. We have no other choice." Varda's heart sank. She had been hoping to keep this little venture of theirs quiet. "Where have they transported him to? Thangorodrim?"

"Yes." Vaire said sadly.

Varda thought for a moment and cursed the sluggishness of her thought processes. This had been a bit of a shock really. It had never occurred to her _or_ Vaire that Morgoth might sense the path they had opened and use it. He must have been jubilant at the idea of circumventing their plans. It was just too bad of him and how like him. Then just as she was about to give up, go to her husband and confess, she had a brainwave. "Was he transported directly to the throne room? Does the tapestry show this for certain?"

Vaire cast her eye over her tapestry and her grim expression lightened. "He has not been taken to the throne room. He currently lies in what looks like a sleeping chamber in a somnolent state. Perhaps Morgoth is too busy to deal with him at the moment."

Usually she unconsciously wove the tapestry as events started to clarify themselves. Only afterwards did she look in-depth to see what events would take place. Her weaving was the last in a sequence of visions of possible events; events that might be, some that would be and those that already had taken place. The conduit by which Vaire received these events and which enabled her to weave the tapestries could only be interrupted by those with sufficient power and knowledge. So far only Melian the Maia and Artanis now known as Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin, who was Melian's pupil, currently had that knowledge.

Varda rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, how very odd. Perhaps it was not Morgoth who did this, yet who else would have the power?"

"I can only think of one."

"Sauron? Then your thought matches mine." Varda frowned. "But for what purpose? Unless…"

Vaire peered closer at the tapestry work and then sat back with a chagrined look on her face. "How could I have missed this? It is Sauron who seeks to draw Eonwe and the host out to Thangorodrim."

"It is quite clear, but I cannot understand what he would have to gain from it." Varda agreed. "But we shall worry about the why later. Now what to do? Perhaps we can take advantage of the fact that it is not Morgoth who called the mortal through the path of the stars. I think we can safely assume that he has shielded his action from Morgoth. He was ever a slippery customer."

"But what _can_ we do? We are so far away. We do not have permission to travel to Arda Marred, only Tulcas was granted this for the purpose of accompanying Eonwe."

Varda considered the situation for a moment. "Then we must bring the mortal to us in his dreams on another plane of existence and try to influence his path. I believe I can cast a web to make time temporarily slower so that we can do this, but we will not have long. This will also mean that we may not be able to effect the way back to their time for either he or Kim" She looked a little guilty. "And we will have to bring Irmo in to help us speak to him in his dream state."

Vaire snorted. "Dear Eru , before we know it, _everyone_ will be taking a hand in this matter. I wish I had never suggested putting a spoke in Namo's wheel in the first place." She concluded crossly. "It's all gone terribly wrong."

"Be that as it may, the milk is now spilled. All we can do is limit the damage and mop us as best we can." Varda put a comforting arm around Vaire and kissed her on the cheek. "Try not to worry. I will go and speak to Irmo to secure his assistance. Let us just hope that he does not have a fit of conscience and insist on worrying Manwe with this, he has enough on his plate at the moment."

She was gone in a swirl of starlight.

"I have a really _bad_ feeling about this." Vaire muttered. She glowered at the tapestry and kicked the inoffensive loom. "Stupid thing; it's not like I desperately want to _know _what's going to happen." A naughty grin split her face as she remembered a rather choice phrase picked up from their mortal guest. "This job sucks." She said firmly to the empty air and then giggled.

ooOoo

**The Camp of Ereinion Gil-galad **

_Celeborn. _The voice of his lady was urgent enough to bring him straight out of his reverie. He sat up abruptly and searched around him only to see the glow of the camp-fire and various sleeping bodies littered around.

ooOoo

Gil-galad had stopped the main group for some much needed rest since the pace they had set themselves had been fierce. Fiercer still was the pace the orc Thadak set himself in his efforts to get to Thangorodrim with his prize. Now they had reached a bit of an impasse in the form of a deep valley. Somewhere down in the valley among a dense group of trees was their prey. Thadak had gone to ground as the sun rose high in the sky and at first the Elven battle group were jubilant. They had him! The scouts came back to the main group with the news, but Eonwe asked Gil-galad to scout further around the whole area before they went in.

A scant hour later one of the scouting groups came back with the grim news that there was a large Orc battle group with Wargs and a tall vaguely man-shaped creature formed of fire and smoke on the opposite side of the valley. Glorfindel blanched when he heard that and Eonwe was heard to whisper "Valarauko" (1) under his breath.

"You cannot fight this foe Ereinion." He said quietly. "We will need to stop and consider our options. Thadak has seen the Orc battle group and knows that if he runs into them they will take the weapons and he wants the credit, indeed has probably been promised a great prize for bringing them to Morgoth. He cannot run back because he will then have to face us. He is, as Gary would say, between a rock and a hard place."

Cirdan nodded and Gil-galad expelled a deep breath. "So, what do we do then?"

"We assess their battle group as we are doing now for numbers and capability." Eonwe said patiently. "And we take some rest. We have been riding hard without rest for some hours now, your warriors are weary and need to eat and sleep. Thadak can go nowhere for the moment. He is stuck wherever he is. Then tomorrow we engage, or rather you engage, the main battle group and I will engage the Valarauko."

"And I will assist you." Glorfindel interposed quietly but firmly.

Eonwe gently grasped the Balrog Slayer's shoulder. "You do not have to do that Glorfindel. The Valarauko is one of my kind and we stand equal in power, he will not prevail against me."

"You do not have Lord Tulcas beside you to watch your back Lord Eonwe, nor do you have the help of the other Maiar who travel with the Host. You will be alone and I cannot in all conscience let you face even one of your own corrupted kind without supporting you." Glorfindel had a remarkably stubborn expression on his face. "You know as well as I do that only by the power of light as well as fighting ability can the Valarauko be defeated. Your light and power are undeniable, but who else here among the Eldar was both born into the light of the Two Trees and then re-embodied back into Valinor, other than I? You know this yourself, for once I stood outside the Halls of Waiting, it was you who greeted me and led me back to Valmar to begin my teaching. You _need_ my light _and_ my sword arm my Lord."

Eonwe saw how determined her was and nodded. "So be it. There is no one I would rather have at my back than Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower." He flashed Glorfindel one of his beautiful smiles. In truth as the Maiar mightiest in arms, Eonwe was perfectly capable of killing a corrupted Maiar on his own, but it wouldn't hurt to have backup.

"Besides which." Said the Golden Elf Lord with a cheeky grin. "I've killed one of those things before."

Laughter rippled among the Elves and Eonwe smiled. "Indeed yes. Let us hope your hair doesn't get set on fire this time."

Glorfindel gave him a horrified look. "I'll wear a helm." He promised.

ooOoo

_Celeborn_. The voice was more urgent and insistent. _There is another mortal. I am not sure how or why, but I do know where._

_Is he in danger? _Celeborn answered his lady in far speak.

_I do not sense danger to him, at least not yet, but there is danger all around him. Danger and evil. I believe he is in Thangorodrim._

_We can do nothing if he is in Morgoth's stronghold. _Celeborn replied.

_That is true, but he cannot be here for any good purpose. Everything I see tells me he is from the same place and time as the other mortals. I think perhaps he has been brought here because of the weapons that the Orc carries. For what other purpose could he have? _Celeborn could hear how concerned she was.

_I suppose a name did not come up? If the mortal is from their time, the young Edain Jim or even Eonwe may know who he is and what his purpose might be._

_It is difficult. You know that my gift does not always show such things, however, I got an impression of the name A-lann._

_I will go now and speak to Eonwe, he and Gil-galad are probably still awake discussing tactics for tomorrow. We will see if this name is familiar to him._

_As to tomorrow, please be careful my love. _Galadriel's voice held a note of wry amusement._ Do at least try to stay out of the Balrog's way!_

_I do not think there is much danger of that. _Celeborn replied dryly._ Our resident Maiar and Glorfindel are positively head butting each other to have the pleasure of killing it. I think, I hope, I will be surplus to requirements._

Her silvery laughter followed him as he wended his way towards the small camp-fire where Gil-galad and Eonwe sat.

ooOoo

(1) Valarauko _(n) Quenya - _Balrog of Morgoth_  
_


	36. Alun in Wonderland

**Note to Reviewers:** I know I can and should use the email to get back to you, but I simply haven't the time at the moment to do it! Terrible excuse I know. However I wanted you all to know that I appreciate that you have taken the time to read this story and to those of you who have added me to their favourite author list, many thanks, I am very flattered. And Ellfine? Yes Eonwe _is _a hunk. I almost fancy him myself! This chapter is a long one folks.

OoOoo

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"  
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.  
"I don't much care where-" said Alice.  
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.  
"-so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.  
"Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

**Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.**

**Alun in Wonderland**

At first there was nothing, just an impenetrable mist, so impenetrable that he actually began to panic and started to hyperventilate. This carried on for a number of seconds that actually felt like hours until he realised that the reason he wasn't breathing properly was simply because he didn't have a physical body. It made a spooky sort of sense that since he had no lungs to breathe with, the hyperventilating was really a figment of his imagination, so instead he tried to concentrate on seeing through the mist; an equally impossible task since without physical eyes he wasn't actually seeing anything at all. He wasn't really there, he simply 'was'.

Alun Davies was aware of a vague unease that his body may still be sitting in his car in the driveway while his soul or essence was elsewhere. So was he dead then? Was this death and was this heaven, because if so, it wasn't comforting at all. Where was the bright light and the crowd of dead relatives waiting to greet him? Perhaps they couldn't find their way in all this mist. An almost hysterical snigger escaped him, but of course he was the only one who could hear it.

On the other hand if he _was _actually alive, but his consciousness was here, wherever here was, then they may well have taken his body to the mortuary prior to performing a post mortem. Right about now his wife would be in bits and his kids…well it just didn't bear thinking about at all.

Okay, so these were not good thoughts to have. He felt the rapid onset of panic mode again.

He wondered if he was capable of moving forward through the mist and then dismissed the idea. How was he supposed to move without legs? If this is the afterlife, he thought, I really do hope they have an instruction manual for things like movement and communication. Not that there was anyone to actually communicate with. A bray of nervous laughter escaped him only to be swallowed up in the thick mist.

Varda and Vaire watched him with varying degrees of perplexity on their respective faces.

Vaire tittered nervously. "What is he trying to do?"

Varda frowned. "I have absolutely no idea. I do wish Irmo would hurry up; this not being able to talk to him in his dreams is most frustrating. Why on earth he has created this damn mist for himself is anyone's guess. Is this what mortals _really_ see in their dreams?"

"He does not know he is dreaming. He thinks he is dead." Irmo's deep amused voice dropped into the conversation. "He is trying to operate as though he was conscious and he is worried, mostly about his family rather than his own fate."

Vaire looked baffled. "Is this mist all that mortals see once they pass beyond the circles of the earth then? How very bored they must be, and how in the name of Eru would you find any of your loved ones or friends in this?"

Irmo chuckled. "None of us know what they see; we are not permitted to know. The mist is of his own mind's creation, a way for his mind to indicate to him that he is currently dreaming and therefore disembodied."

"His mind could not have created a nice comfortable living room to sit in?" Asked Varda crossly.

Irmo laughed harder at that and waved his arm casually. The area immediately cleared and an utterly confounded Alun found himself seated on a comfortable wide cushioned bench. Beside him on a marble occasional table stood a carafe of pale golden liquid which he sniffed and identified as wine. There was also a bowl of ripe, delicious looking fruit. Alun's non-existent stomach growled in hunger and he realised that he hadn't had time to have dinner before he died; he'd been too busy trying to get home. He stared at the fruit longingly.

"Help yourself to fruit." Irmo stepped into the area and beckoned Varda and Vaire to follow him.

Alun nearly jumped out of his skin when this magnificent god-like being sauntered in. He was completely bereft of speech when two more of the most beautiful creatures in god's own heaven followed him. Each bestowed on him a stunning smile that wiped the floor with what was left of his presence of mind. And it wasn't often that Alun Davies was speechless.

"Wh..wh…who…who.." He stuttered and could have smacked himself upside the head for sounding like a demented owl.

The gorgeous male creature stepped forward with a cheerful smile, captured his hand and shook it warmly. "Who are we?" Alun nodded. "I am Lord Irmo …er…one of the Valar and these are two of my fellow Valar, Lady Varda Elentari and Lady Vaire ."

"Wh..wh…wh…" Alun cursed inwardly at his apparent inability to string together a coherent sentence.

"Where are you?" Irmo queried kindly. Alun nodded again, this time a little wearily. "You are nowhere really, given that you are currently either unconscious or in a deep sleep. Your mind has created what it deems a safe dream area and we are here because we wish to speak to you while you are in this dream state."

Alun considered this for a few moments. "I see." He said slowly trying to collect the scattered remnants of his thoughts as best he could. He took heart in the fact that he had just combined two fairly coherent words together and tried for a whole sentence. "Why..." He cleared his throat or rather the dream state version of his throat. "Why couldn't you just talk to me when I'm awake?"

"Because the place where your physical body currently rests is not accessible to us." Said Irmo quietly.

Alun frowned at this. "Why?" He felt like a child asking the same plaintive question over and over again ad nauseam.

Varda plucked at Irmo's sleeve. "Are we able to speak to him now?"

Irmo nodded and moved to the small table. He poured out four glasses of wine and handed one each to Alun, Varda and Vaire, before taking one and sitting down on the bench opposite the confused Alun who perched nervously on the front of his bench awkwardly holding the glittering crystal glass in a death grip.

Varda sat down beside Alun and gave her most reassuring smile. Somewhere in between being terrified of dropping what looked like a priceless crystal goblet and getting totally lost in Varda's starlit eyes, he lost what little power of speech he had gained and nodded stupidly. Now he felt like one of those stupid little nodding dogs in the back window of someone's car.

"Hello A-lann. I _may_ call you by that name may I?" She gave him a dazzling smile and he nodded again. "Good. Firstly, to answer your very good question, your body is not currently where you believe it to be."

"Am I dead?" Alun demanded bluntly, finally finding his voice.

Varda and her two companions looked suitably shocked. "No indeed." Varda reassured him. "Far from it. The thing is that someone who does not mean you well has brought you here through circumstances beyond our control which have been created by accident." She looked desperately at Irmo and Vaire who both shrugged in unison. That was about as good as it got explanation-wise.

Alun settled back on the bench and managed to take a sip of the wine by holding the goblet firmly with both slightly trembling hands. "Ah, you mean the interspatial rift which has created a temporal causality." He tried to sound casual, but his heart sank. If these wonderful beings weren't responsible for bringing him here then the alternative had to be a lot worse.

"Yes." The three Valar all blurted out at the same time. Then they looked at each other. "Absolutely." Irmo said firmly even though he hadn't the foggiest idea what Alun had just said. "The creature we are referring to is the lieutenant of a fallen Vala called Melkor who is now known as Morgoth Bauglir , his name is Sauron."

Alun raised an eyebrow. "And a Vala would be?"

"We sprang from the Music at the creation." Vaire said helpfully. " Eru Iluvator , the creator gave us life, the Maiar, of whom Sauron is one, are I suppose the next level down."

"Like angels?" Alun leant forward. This was getting interesting, albeit a little confusing.

Varda looked confused. "I am not sure what angels are. Did they spring from the Music at the will of the creator?"

It was Alun's turn to look confused and he was much better at it. "Well, nobody knows really, but you said creator, so I took that to mean the deity we call God. He had archangels and ordinary angels to serve him. They were called Messengers of God."

Varda looked relieved and her relief was mirrored in both Irmo's and Vaire's faces. "Ah, yes, then I suppose you could call us Eru's archangels and the Maiar would be angels. It seems that things are not so different in your modern world."

"Modern world? Am I to understand that I've come back in time then to the same place our other people were lost in?"

Varda coloured. "I fear so, if you are referring to Garee, Jim, the Chief and Kim."

"I am indeed. Are they alive and well?"

Varda exchanged a glance with Irmo and Vaire before answering. "They are all alive and as far as we know they are all well, for the moment, but there is a problem. In fact there are two rather pressing problems."

Alun sighed and took another sip of his wine. He reached out for a deliciously ripe and firm-looking peach and bit into it. The taste was sublime; just exactly what he would have assumed that peaches in heaven would taste like. "I'm delighted to hear they're well, but what sort of problem are we talking about? Is it something to do with the matter of the missing assault weapons by any chance?" He asked between bites. The juice dribbled down his chin and Vaire silently handed him a cloth to wipe his fingers and chin with. He smiled at her. "Thank you ma'am." Vaire laughed softly and acknowledged his thanks by inclining her head.

Varda swallowed. There was no easy way to say this. "Yes." She said baldly. "They are currently in the hands of one of Morgoth's minions, an Orc called Thadak, and Kim is with child by our Herald."

"Good gracious me, they _have_ been busy."

"Never a dull moment." Agreed Varda.

"Okay, so what does this Sour person want with me? He must have brought me here for some purpose."

"Sauron." Irmo corrected him gently. "And we are not exactly sure what he wants with you, but we believe that it is related to these 'assault weapons' as you term them." Irmo had no idea what an assault weapon was but it didn't sound nice and harmless by any means.

Alun stared intently at the Vala. "Right, but why would he need someone like me? Does he have the weapons?"

"Not yet." Varda hastened to assure him. "They are presently in the hands of one of Morgoth's minions as we said before, but he has yet to get to Thangorodrim, which is where you are, or rather where your body is."

Alun got up and paced around the furnished area of his dream space. "I do suppose you have someone trying to get them back from this orc person?"

Varda nodded. "Yes, Ereinion Gil-galad who is the High King of the Elves in Arda Marred is chasing him with his army and they have Eonwe with them."

"And Eonwe would be?"

"Our Herald or rather my husband Lord Manwe's herald. He is a Maiar and a mighty warrior, the mightiest in arms in all Valinor." She added as an afterthought,

Alun assimilated the information that was flying his way as best he could. "This Herald chappie, Eonwe, would he be the same herald who's responsible for getting Sgt Freeman pregnant?"

"If I understand you correctly, the answer would be yes." Varda hedged a little.

"Right. And what's _he _doing in this Arda Marred place? Just hanging around?"

Varda sighed. This was becoming extremely complicated. "Well...no. He is the Commander of the Host of the Valar, our armies who we have sent to capture Morgoth and bring him back in chains."

"Right. And he also happens to be chasing this Orc? Who's leading the army while he's doing that?" Alun sat back down on the bench and crossed his leg over his knee, his favourite position it had to be said.

"_I _wouldn't mind knowing that as well." Muttered Irmo darkly from the other side of the furnished area.

Varda huffed another sigh. "Well, your Garee is with the Host in Eonwe's place."

Alun's eyebrows met his hairline. "Let me get this straight. The mightiest in arms Herald chap who commands your army has been replaced by a buckshee Major in the British Army so that he can get women pregnant and chase an orc with our assault weapons?"

"What is buck-shee?" Varda asked. She looked totally confused.

Alun grinned for the first time since the conversation began. "Never mind, just a bit of idiomatic talk. Buckshee sort of means extra, surplus to requirements, meaning that Majors in the British Army are ten a penny and not very important."

"Oh." Varda's face fell a little. "Eonwe is very important."

"So I gather, which makes me wonder at the fact that Major Matthews is not chasing the orc chappie and your Herald isn't leading your army."

"I'd like to know _that_ too." Irmo muttered again under his breath. Vaire smiled sweetly and ground her small heel into his foot. "Ouch. What did you do that for?" He demanded of Vaire.

Varda coloured slightly. "Well, it's not that easy to explain..."

Alun laughed softly. "I'm beginning to get that impression." He said dryly. "Give it a whirl."

"Give what a whirl? Oh...I see what you mean." Varda blushed an even brighter red. "Well...Eonwe and your Major are one and the same person, only in different time dimensions. Major Matthews is a future version of our beloved Herald. Because of the rift we have ended up with two of them and as they get closer together they begin to meld into one form, so they swap bodies every now and again, only the frequency and time spent in the other's body is increasing. Hence Eonwe is currently in the Major's body and the Major is currently in Eonwe's body, but they are really the same body."

Alun sat back down beside Varda, his face suddenly serious. "Right. So, if I understand what you're telling me correctly the time spent apart in the different versions of the same person will eventually cease and this Eonwe and Major Matthews will then just be one person? And I am guessing it will be Eonwe as he is now? And it was Eonwe in the body of the Major who got Sgt Freeman pregnant."

Varda beamed with pleasure. This was an intelligent, perceptive mortal. Intelligence and perception she could cope with. "Yes you have it exactly!" She grinned in triumph at Vaire and Irmo. Irmo glowered back at her as he realised the extent to which he and the other Valar had been left out of this situation.

"Okay, I think I understand what's happened, but what I don't understand is why this Sourpuss chap would pick on me?"

"Sauron." They all corrected him in unison.

Alun flapped his hand dismissively. "Whoever. Why would he need me? What have I got to do with military assault weapons?"

"I would imagine." Irmo interposed. "That he needs someone to show him how they workand has assumed you can." Varda and Vaire nodded enthusiastically.

"He thinks I know how they work does he?" Alun queried. He began to dredge up what he could remember of his weapons training. Like every other policemen he did some small arms training regularly, but the larger heavy duty assault rifles that the army used weren't the weapon of choice for the police, well not usually, although they did use sub-machine guns when they were on armed duty at places like airports.

Varda hesitated. "Well, we assumed that it was for that."

"I see." Alun said slowly. "So let's assume it _is_ for that purpose that Sourplum wants me here."

"Sauron." Irmo repeated automatically.

"Whatever. Sauron. If it is then what exactly do you want me to do? I'm sure you'll have noticed but I'm going to be pretty much on my own in this Thankgodrie place." Irmo opened his mouth to correct him and Vaire stamped a little harder on his foot, so he subsided, muttering darkly to himself about interfering females. "No backup from other police officers. I'm also guessing that if I refuse to help my goose is pretty much cooked?"

"Why is he talking about cooking? Is he going to cook Sauron dinner? How extraordinary." Vaire whispered in Irmo's ear.

Irmo shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps that's what modern mortals do when they are in danger." He whispered back.

Vaire considered this for a second. "Oh, you mean like making an offering to appease Sauron? I see. Although I am not sure Sauron would appreciate the gesture." Her eyebrows knitted together. "I am not even sure he likes goose, whatever that is"

The Police Inspector would have had to have been deaf not to hear the whispered conversation. "My goose is cooked is a way of saying that my life would be forfeit." He said patiently. "If I refuse Sourpuss, then he kills me."

Varda nodded. "Yes, I am afraid that is what it would mean."

"Only with _much_ pain and torture." Vaire added brightly.

"Well...that's encouraging." Alun responded. He couldn't resist giving a slight eye roll. "I still don't understand. Does this Sourpuss not have people there who could figure out how the weapons work? They're pretty simple really. They are simply mechanical devices which propel small balls out of the barrel at high velocity. This gives them the power to travel long distances and make big holes in people. Very big lethal holes."

Irmo poured himself another glass of wine and gestured with the bottle to Alun's goblet. Alun shook his head, he had the feeling that he would need a clear head once he woke up. Could he get drunk in dreams?

"Well, I admit I was wondering the same thing to be honest." Irmo took a sip of the wine.

Varda sat for a moment and thought. "You are quite right. There are corrupted Maiar with Morgoth who were Maiar of Aule the Smith. They would be more than capable of this. There _could _be another reason of course. It is also possible that Sauron wishes to draw the Host to Thangorodrim before they are prepared."

"And what better way to do it than threaten someone close to this Herald of yours." Alun nodded. "Someone who is carrying his child? But he needs to get her first and preferably without a huge fuss, which is where I come in I guess. Where is Sgt Freeman now?"

Varda flushed. "Well she's currently with the Kinslayers."

Alun expelled a huge frustrated breath. "Kinslayers? They sound a bit violent to me."

"They are, or rather they can be, especially if they're hindered in their quest for the Simarils." Vaire said with a smile.

"What's a... " Alun waved his hand at Vaire. "Never mind, I don't think I want or need to know. Is she safe with them?"

Irmo got up and wandered around the furnished area fingering the fine fluted columns. "Possibly not. She would probably be safer if someone of her own kind was with her. However they will probably eventually deliver her to the Commander of the Host. She would be safer there, but a pregnant woman travelling with an army at war?" He shook his head in doubt.

"And the Commander is Major Matthews at the moment." Alun mused. "So why would Sourplum need me? Unless he needs someone who Sgt Freeman knows and would trust to take her to him, perhaps under the ruse of taking her home."

"Which is, of course, exactly what _we_ wish you to do. Take her home to her own time, I mean." Varda declared triumphantly. "We wish you to take her to safety and to where she cannot be a distraction to either Eonwe or the Major while they retrieve these hideous weapons and she cannot go alone, so we created a path to bring you here for that purpose. It had to be someone like you who had also experienced the rift. It would not allow any other from your time through. Only Sauron sensed the path and used it to bring you here before we could."

Alun sat down and started to pull the pieces of the puzzle together. "So all I have to do is fall in with whatever Sourpuss has planned for me as long as it's to do with Kim. And make sure you're all kept in the loop."

"Loop?" Irmo looked confused, as did Varda and Vaire. "What is this loop you refer to?"

"Keeping somebody in the loop means keeping them informed." Alun explained.

"Ah." Irmo looked down his nose at Varda and Vaire. "You mean what these two and Manwe have apparently _not_ been doing with their fellow Valar over this...peculiar situation." Varda and Vaire had the grace to look a little shamefaced.

"I guess so." Alun chuckled.A wave of dizziness suddenly assaulted him and he clutched the edge of the bench to support himself. For a moment the mist floated in front of his eyes and obliterated the three Valar, who were gazing at him in concern.

"What is happening to him?" Varda asked in a worried voice.

"He is beginning to wake up, or is being woken up." Irmo said. "We have run out of time."

Alun shook his head and managed to bring the Valar into focus. "I think I've got the picture." He said reassuringly. "You're just going to have to trust me from here on in. What happens when I have Sgt Freeman with me?"

"We will be watching and will know. Our actions in Arda Marred are severely limited, but we can at least guide you back to the rift. You should be able to pass through without injury, but be warned mortal, there is no way back." Varda's voice had taken on a stern tone.

"No offence, but that suits me just fine." Alun responded mildly. He held his hand out politely and the three Valar just stared at it with confused expressions on their faces, so he withdrew it. "I think I hear my kidnappers calling me. Nice to have met you..." His voice became further and further away until it was nothing but a mere whisper then he finally winked out of sight.

Irmo popped a luscious black grape in his mouth and chewed appreciatively. "Nice decent sort of mortal. It would be nice to meet him again."

"Yes." Varda said softly. "He was a nice mortal. I hope he is all right. I hope Sauron does not torture or kill him."

Vaire shuddered delicately. "Indeed no. The ramifications of his death here would be terrible, not just for _our_ Arda but for the future of Arda. He has been brought here by force, not even by accident or design."

"So this is where you are all hiding." Manwe Sulimo materialised into the furnished area and looked around. "Anything happening that I should know about?" He leant over and kissed Varda on her cheek and she leaned on his shoulder affectionately.

"Oh not at all." Irmo declared airily. "Unless of course you consider _keeping the rest of us in the loop_ not to be important." With that, the Valar in charge of dreams disappeared from the scene.

"Loop? What does he mean by loop?" Manwe asked Varda who froze and looked around desperately for assistance.

Vaire stood up abruptly. "I have a _terrible_ headache. I need hot baths with perfumed oils and cold compresses, now."

"I think I will join you." Varda said hastily. They linked arms and also hastily dematerialised before they could be asked any awkward questions.

Manwe looked up at the heavens as if hoping for enlightenment from Eru. "Loop? What does that mean?" He asked plaintively, but there was no answer. He sighed, sat down and poured himself some wine. "Nobody ever tells me anything." He mourned.

ooOoo

Consciousness slowly seeped into Alun Davies' brain. Slowly shapes in the darkened room began to solidify into tables and chairs and the bed he was lying in. Dark coloured bed curtains were looped back from the bedposts with twisted cords which gleamed a dull gold in the flickering light from a dying fire in the large cavernous grate. A dim light from one taper candle pooled around the immediate area of the table it stood on and provided the only other light in a room which was otherwise shrouded in darkness.

But out of the darkness came a voice. Not an unpleasant voice by any means, in fact the tones were distinctly silken, yet Alun still detected a slight undertone of menace. This was not a good place, he sensed. It was a place of dark deeds and great evil. The shadows and darkness in the room were not entirely from the lack of light. Alun shivered slightly as a deep miasma of dread sent eldritch fingers down his spine.

A dark figure suddenly separated itself from the shadows and revealed itself to be more or less human shaped.

"Awake at last I see. Welcome to Thangorodrim Detective Inspector Davies. I am Sauron, trusted lieutenant of Morgoth Bauglir, the Dark Lord and Master of Arda Marred. I have a task for you."

ooOoo


	37. Behold a Pale Horse

**Behold a Pale Horse**

"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched,  
they must be felt by the heart " **- Old saying**

To the untutored eye nothing much appeared to be moving in the natural little valley. The small stream, a tributary of a much larger river, burbled and chuckled its way over stones, the trees waved gently in a light but warm breeze, the first of such breezes which often rise on the cusp of the cooler seasons and which herald the coming of summer. The morning sun rose and showed rocks, vegetation and any defining natural landmarks up in sharp relief against deep, cool early morning shadows.

At midday Anor's rays were merciless and offered no relief in the form of shadow. Everything was unnaturally still. No animals, large or small, moved about their daily business and only the high penetrating buzz of any insect life remaining in the area could be heard over the chortling stream. A faint heat haze thinly veiled everything and the rocky hills that rose around the valley shimmered against a burnished sky.

In this heat and at this time of day no Orc in its right mind would rise to fight or do anything else, no matter how hard the taskmaster in charge of it. The corrupted Maiar who accompanied this large, but motley crew, knew better than to try. They sat in fulminating silence watching the slobbering, snoring, farting steaming heap of Orc kind sleep away in the heat of the sun in the shadow of some overhanging rocks; although even the Maiar would have hesitated drawing out a battle with Elves in the full brightness of day. The Valarauko had withdrawn itself into the darkness offered by a shallow cave, a creature of the shadow and the flame it also did not function well away from the darkness, either natural or that offered by its Lord.

Another of Orc kind also slept in the heat and bright fierce glare of the sun. Thadak had gone to ground in a particularly small, but thick clump of trees positioned quite close to the stream in the middle of the valley. He had dug himself a temporary cool, damp and dark place partially underneath a flat boulder which was also covered with thick bushes. His level of cover from hostile eyes was good, the Orc battle group had not seen nor had they sensed him hiding there.

Not so the keen sight, smell and senses of Elvenkind though and the even sharper senses of an uncorrupted Maiar. They knew Thadak was there and from their vantage point high on the slopes of the hill forming one side of the valley directly across from their opposition, they could see both the battle group _and _their original prey.

The Elves of Ereinion Gil-galad's small army had no compunction about attacking the Orcs in the bright light of the noonday sun. It meant little to them that the Orcs preferred the darkness and usually only attacked and fought when darkness fell. This usually presented no problem when Morgoth's minions were closer to Thangorodrim, since Morgoth was able to cast quite a vast area of land into virtually permanent darkness and shadow just by his will alone. However, this far from his reach, daylight still prevailed until night chased it from the sky.

The present difficulty for the Elves was that as they moved onto the valley floor into a position to attack, they then gave an advantage to the Orc battle group by exposing themselves and since the Orcs had no idea that the horrible shining Elves were concealed across the valley, they weren't about to start an attack themselves. Somehow, the Orcs had to be drawn out.

This presented yet another potential problem for the Elves. Once they had drawn their enemy out, they would come pouring across the valley. Granted the Elven archers would be able to pick most of the Orcs off, allowing Eonwe and Glorfindel to draw the Valarauko away from the main group, but in the ensuing melee, and when the attention of everyone was elsewhere, Thadak would most likely take the opportunity of slipping away.

"He will need to be silenced, swiftly before the other Orcs see him." Cirdan said. "My suggestion would be for Erestor to carry this task out. His scouting and tracking abilities are second to none."

Gil-galad nodded at Erestor who rose to his feet silently and disappeared like mist in the direction of the clump of trees. "It should be done soon. The longer we dally, the more chance of someone spotting us." He glanced over at Eonwe who was gazing in the direction that the Orcs were camped. He not only sensed the Valarauko was there, his much enhanced Maiar vision could actually see the fell creature. He had also used some of his considerable power to place a protective aura around the Elves, knowing full well that even a fallen Maia would easily have been able to sense their presence.

"The Orcs are somnolent." Eonwe said softly. "Moving in the full light of day causes them considerable discomfort, but we cannot take our ease, this is not a random skirmishing group with a loose leadership based on the strongest. This group is battle-hardened and sent specifically to take you and your warriors on in battle Ereinion. If the Valarauko detects our presence it will not hesitate to order them into battle, broad daylight or not."

Gil-Galad smiled crookedly at him. "I did guess as much." He said wryly. "As soon as I knew that there was a Balrog with them. Morgoth was leaving nothing to chance it seems."

"Indeed not." Eonwe replied soberly. "It is clear to me that Morgoth thought he could kill two birds with one stone."

Cirdan chuckled. "Two birds with one stone? I like that saying."

"I am afraid I cannot take credit for it." Eonwe gave a low laugh. "It comes straight from my future self and his time." His face abruptly became grave and Cirdan looked intently at him.

"You are concerned for your future involvement and also I sense for the safety of Lady Kim ." He said sympathetically.

Eonwe nodded. "Concerned yes, but as far as my future task is concerned, I cannot worry about it unduly just yet. I will cross that bridge when I come to it. But Kim …" His voice faltered a little. "It is very obvious that she is not with the Orc. He could not so effectively shield himself _and _her from our eyes and at this distance I should be able to both see her and sense her presence. So where is she?"

The horrible thought had occurred that she might already been dead and not more than an hour or two earlier he attempted to do what he had avoided thus far, and that was to pick up and strengthen the slender silken thread of their bond.

He had not done so earlier because he knew that to search for her through the link between them would have, in Gary's words 'scared the crap out of her', so Eonwe had let it be. He could feel the link in the back of his mind, but had not taken it up. So Kim wasn't in any way aware that her lover could both contact her and sense her presence if he so chose.

"She is alive?" Celeborn hesitated to ask anything else. Out of all of the Gil-galad's commanders he was one who would understand most about the bond created on the joining of hroa to hroa, given his marriage bond with Galadriel. The High King had never bonded with a mate, nor had Cirdan, given the fact that his oath to Lord Ulmo and duty to Osse prevented him from leaving Middle Earth to settle down with his own people to take a wife and Glorfindel was also unwed.

Eonwe's expression was wry to say the least. "Yes, very much alive and I sense that she is uninjured, but thus far my attempts to persuade her to pick up the link I have been trying to send her have failed miserably. She believes she is hearing voices, 'going off her rocker' as she so colourfully puts it." The listening Elves laughed softly but sympathetically at his plight. "In truth I have had more luck contacting our unborn daughter than I have her mother. It is from her that I know Kim is well enough and reasonably safe, for the moment at least."

Celeborn chuckled. "I have a feeling that your future life with your lady is unlikely to be a dull one."

"I am beginning to think I may not survive the experience intact." Eonwe said dryly.

"Ah well. At least you will have an ally in the form of your daughter. My heartiest congratulations my Lord." Cirdan said with a warm smile. He reached out as best he could where they were stretched out behind bushes and rocks and gently touched Eonwe's arm.

The Herald threw him a brilliant smile and despite his difficult situation couldn't help feeling a tug of pride and excitement at the idea of becoming a father. Something he had not ever envisaged he would become in his life, although because of Melian and Thingol's daughter Luthien he knew it was a possibility. The contact however brief with the child had had the effect of forming a father daughter bond between them. Now all he needed to do was to persuade his stubborn Kim to make the contact and bond three-way.

"I cannot help wondering who she is with. There are others there, but she does not feel threatened." He mused.

"It was an arrow of Elvish craftsmanship which took the Orc." Celeborn pondered. "And it had a flight of emerald coloured feathers, which is not a colour used by any of the Elven archers we know, however Erestor did mention once seeing a group of archers who had loosely allied themselves with Maedhros and his brother whose flights were green. Could it have been their group who rescued Kim?"

"It is possible." Gil-galad said. "And if so then it means that the sons of Earendil will not be far behind." His tone was hopeful. Long had he wanted to bring Earendil's twins under the wing of people who would care for them and long had Maedhros denied them their freedom.

"She will be safe enough with them for the moment. In any case they are currently affiliated with the Host and are on scouting and skirmishing duties given to them by me. I assume that they are on their way back to the Host now to report, if so Gary will take charge of Kim for both of us." Eonwe frowned slightly. "However we will have to think of somewhere safe to send her before the Host push on if we do not retrieve these weapons. Perhaps we can send her under escort to the Lady Artanis."

He lifted an eyebrow at Celeborn, who cast him a cool, but amused glance. "Indeed. My wife, _Galadriel_, will be delighted to look after her."

Eonwe caught the slight reproof in Celeborn's use of his wife's name and flushed slightly. "My apologies Lord Celeborn. I have known the lady since her birth and I still think of her as Artanis."

Celeborn shook his head. "Nay my Lord, the apology should be mine. I fear I am too sensitive when it comes to my wife's previous life and family in the Blessed Realm."

"Well then, we must make sure that you meet her father the High King of the Noldor, Lord Finarfin, he currently rides with me as one of my commanders."

"Oh joy." Celeborn muttered under his breath. "I cannot wait." He experienced a light mind slap from his wife so many leagues away.

ooOoo

Celebrimbor, Olorin and their warriors and the small band of Naugrim who had, fairly surprisingly it had to be said, chosen to accompany them had made excellent time catching up with the High King and the rest of his army. Just as the afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen, they appeared like the relief of Mafeking over the rise of the small valley and stood in stark relief against the blue sky.

For a moment it seemed that they would just sit there forever on their horses staring down at the frenzied, blood spattered scene below them. The fact that the High King and his army had come across a very sizeable battle-group had always been a distinct possibility, but what really struck them into immobility was not the whirling, graceful dance of Elven warriors in full battle mode, sweeping, slashing and slicing their way through the Orcs like a hot knife through butter. It was the side battle that was taking place between what looked very much like a Balrog of Morgoth, whip of fire cracking and curling around a tall shining warrior dressed in modern army combats and wielding a sword and last but certainly not least, an equally shining tall warrior whose golden hair sticking out of the bottom of the mithril helm clearly declared him to be Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer.

A groan escaped one of the Elves. "_Ai, ai, a Balrog_." His muttered and fearful curse was to be repeated yeni later in the Mines of Moria by another Elf at the sight of the creature of shadow and flame.

Celebrimbor turned swiftly to the Naugrim leader who sat behind Olorin clutching on to the back of his waist for grim death. It had to be said that the Naugrim were not natural horsemen under any circumstances.

"Glosur, you do not have to get involved with this, there is no dishonour if you do not wish to fight in our battle."

The white-haired and bearded dwarf turned an almost deep purple colour, or at least as much of his face as they could see under the long white beard was purple. He slid clumsily down from the back of Olorin's horse and immediately swung his huge double-edged battleaxe off his shoulder.

"Not get involved Elf?" He shouted. "Are you mad or witless? Are these..._things_...not _our _enemy also? My beloved axe is thirsty. Long has it been since it tasted foul orc blood. Let us go, we are wasting good killing time." He lovingly draw a finger along the well honed axe blade.

His brethren had also dismounted from the horses that were carrying them as pillion passengers and stood with their own weapons of choice firmly in both hands. Glee and eagerness for battle shone from their faces.

Celebrimbor laughed gaily. "Well then, let us not waste any more time!" He drew his own sword and the blade flashed silver in the rays of the sun. He wheeled his horse around and then tossed a bag of the newly created ammunition at Olorin. "You will need these I think for your weapon." Then with a loud Elven battle cry he launched his own attack. The warriors streamed after him swords raised and bows already releasing a hail of deadly arrows into main body of the Orcs.

They were followed by the Naugrim, stomping down the rocky hill in their wake on foot, brandishing their axes and splitting the air with their own loud and guttural battle cry. "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" (1)

Olorin broke open the bag and loaded both of the magazines that he had with the rounds, then he clipped a magazine firmly on the weapon and put the other in his pocket where he could reach it swiftly. He turned his own horse around and bent over to speak softly in its ear. "Here my fine, beautiful fellow. There will be much terrifying noise from this thing, but it could turn the tide for them. Will you bear me with it?" He held the weapon out so that the horse could see it.

The horse blew out a snorting breath and its eye showed a brief flash of white before it calmed again and snickered softly to indicate that it would trust the Maia and bear him wherever he wished to go, no matter how loud the noise.

Olorin hefted the weapon and closed his eyes momentarily as he summoned up all of the Chief's experience and no-how, then he pressed his knees against the horses flank and rode hell for leather down the slope after the others. He used his knees and the knowledge that the horse would not let him fall to guide them down, lifted the assault rifle onto his right shoulder into the firing position, released the safety catch and squinted through the sight.

Moments later both Elves, Orcs, Naugrim and Maiar turned in both astonishment and fear as they heard the deadly sound of gunfire enter the fray.

ooOoo

Eonwe recognised the sound of gunfire immediately and his and Glorfindel's attention was briefly taken away from their battle with this horrific creature of nightmares. Fortunately the Valarauko also heard the new sound, a sound it had never heard before and its massive flame and shadow-wreathed head swung around in the direction of the sound, momentarily distracted from the fierce battle at hand.

It was the distraction that Eonwe had been waiting for and he struck the creature with all the force behind his blow that he could muster. At the same time he managed to mentally grasp the corrupted fea of what had once been a fellow Maiar spirit and he squeezed with all of his considerable mental strength until he could feel it buckling under his much stronger will. Then he saw Glorfindel turn back to the battle and summon his own shining might of an Elf-lord both born and brought back to life in Aman to face the creature and it began to dwindle and fizzle under the combined light.

OoOoo

Ereinion Gil-galad nearly wept with joy at the welcome sight of Celebrimbor, his warriors and the Naugrim joining the battle and he shot a look of triumph at Cirdan who briefly raised his own sword aloft in welcome to the latecomers before thrusting it into deep the throat of one particularly large mottled and warty Orc. He ignored the fountain of black blood which sprayed over his silver armour and plunged forward to his next victim.

Celeborn's joy at seeing them was muted a little at first by the sight of the sturdy Naugrim laying about them with their axes and shouting their battle-cry continually as they hewed Orc after Orc like ripe wheat under a sharp scythe. The Naugrim were not his favourite race and for good reason. Yet at the same time he knew that their abilities in battle were considerable and he was not so foolish as to look a gift Naugrim in the mouth when it was necessary.

The sound of gunfire immobilised everyone on the battlefield for a second, then, almost in slow motion through the smoke generated by the Valarauko and in the confusion of the fight, a tall figure with a weapon that spat deadly fire and cut a swathe through its enemies came riding into view like Nemesis on a pale horse.

The Orc commander uttered a guttural curse and turned tail to run only to be cut down by one of the corrupted Maiar accompanying them. The tall Maia spat on the corpse of the Orc before slipping away from the battle to report to its master.

ooOoo

(1) "The Axes of the Dwarves! The Dwarves are upon you!"


	38. Lembas and Wild Turkey

**Lembas and Wild Turkey**

"Men like sports. Men watch the action movie,  
they eat of the beef, and enjoy to look at the bosoms.  
A thousand years of avenging our wrongs and that's all you've learned?" -  
**Xander, (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)**

**Towers of Thangorodrim, Angband Fortress, far northern Beleriand**

Alun Davies struggled to make out the shadowed face under the cowl, but the darkness in the room was such that it effectively made the dark figure who called himself Sauron look utterly faceless, something which didn't exactly fill him with reassurance despite the pleasant voice. He decided therefore to make all of his replies fairly neutral as far as he could.

"Thank you for your hospitality." He responded dryly. "However I'd be much obliged if you could tell me where I am and why I'm here."

He couldn't see the smile, but he could sense that Sauron was smiling somewhere inside the blackness where his face should have been.

"Indeed, you must be curious and I will answer all of your questions…all in good time. For the moment it must suffice you to know that you are in Thangorodrim, the stronghold of Lord Morgoth Bauglir and you are quite safe. For now at least."

A knock at the door turned both of their attentions in that direction. "Come!" Sauron's voice was commanding. Obviously someone who expected to be obeyed without question Alun surmised. Sauron waved a languid hand in the general direction of the heavy wooden door and it swung open as if by an unspoken command. Alun held his breath. After his discussion with the Valar he had met in his dreams he wasn't sure what he was expecting in this place of deep shadows and dark deeds, however the individual who came through the door carrying a heavy tray was most decidedly human-looking.

From his dark complexion and slightly almond-shaped dark, limpid eyes Alun decided that he came from the lands to the East, probably what would be India or Pakistan in his modern world, or perhaps even from one of the Islamic countries. The man moved silently into the room, placed the tray, on which Alun could now see was food and drink, on the table indicated to him by Sauron and then he backed out of the room as silently as he came. The heavy door swung shut and thudded solidly into the frame. Not a door that he could break down and make his escape then, Alun thought in dismay.

"No indeed." Sauron's voice sounded coolly amused. "The door is very solidly made, but more to the point, it is kept shut and protected by powerful spells and wards."

"To keep me in? I'm flattered." Alun commented quietly.

So this creature could see his thoughts. He would have to be more guarded with them, although he had the distinct impression that if Sauron really wanted to, he could see almost everything in Alun's head. Just as well that Irmo had woven a soft web of deception around the meeting in his dream state. He could remember all that had happened between him and the Valar, but Sauron would not have the power to pierce the web. However Irmo had cautioned him that if Sauron decided to take him in front of Morgoth, the protection would not hold for long.

"Partly, but even were you to 'escape' from this room, it is doubtful you would get very far before being apprehended by the guards." There was a distinct note of laughter in Sauron's smooth tones now. "However, the idea is as much to keep unwanted visitors out as it is to keep you in." He gestured to the tray. "In the meantime, please do eat something. I understand that you were plucked from the bosom of your family before you managed to eat dinner."

That at least confirmed that Sauron was not aware that he had been hijacked by the Valar. Alun had both eaten fruit and drunk some wine with them. Or perhaps that was dream fruit and dream wine and therefore didn't count as sustenance. He was aware that his thought processes felt a little woolly and muddled and his stomach was definitely now hurting. Perhaps something to eat would be a good idea, so he nodded and Sauron lifted a cover from one of the plates to reveal some slices of what looked and smelled very much like roast chicken. All the same, he silently heeded another warning sent to him by Irmo in thought. _Be careful what you eat there. I doubt that Sauron will feed you anything poisonous or the flesh of another sentient being because he wants something from you. Just be mindful and aware that your food could be drugged._

He therefore took the plate and prodded the meat suspiciously with the fork that Sauron handed to him.

"It is just the meat of a large local bird which used to proliferate around this area." Sauron continued smoothly. "Sadly they are no longer in existence here. Our hunters have to go far and wide to find them. As I understand it, the taste will be similar to something you call turkey. The vegetables are, I imagine, fairly common to your own dimension, although doubtless they have other names there. However your caution is laudable, for it shows you are a man who considers his actions carefully and in that you will suit my purpose admirably."

Alun helped himself to vegetables, which appeared to be roast potatoes and boiled carrots, and speared a piece of the meat on the fork. He drew a long breath and put it in his mouth. He could sense Sauron waiting and he also sensed the same amusement from him as he chewed the meat tentatively. He expelled a relieved breath as the delicious taste, somewhere between a turkey and perhaps a duck, probably because of the diet of the bird, exploded on his palate. Sauron did actually laugh out loud as Alun, hungry now for real, tucked into the meal with gusto.

"I see our culinary efforts meet with your approval, so I will leave you to enjoy your meal." Sauron drawled. Alun looked up, a question clear in his eyes. "We will speak of your task after you have eaten and refreshed yourself. The servants will fetch water for you to clean yourself with after they take the tray away. Heed my earlier words though, do _not_ use their presence to force your way past. There are many things in this fortress that would have no compunction in ending your existence just for the sheer pleasure of it."

Alun opened his mouth to speak, but Sauron had already moved to the door which again swung open at some silent command. This time Alun strained to see what was outside the door, but saw only the inky blackness which seemed to swallow Sauron up. Or was it that he had actually _become_ part of the blackness? A shiver of real fear caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Obviously escape under his own steam here was not going to be an option. He was just going to have to go along with whatever happened and seize his chance when he could.

Whatever this task was, Sauron was not going to be an easy taskmaster. Alun was going to have to play his hand very carefully if he wanted to come out of this in one piece. The trouble was that he had the distinct impression that _whatever_ this creature did with him if he didn't go along with his plans would involve a fate a _lot_ worse than death.

ooOoo

**The camp of the Host of the Valar, northern Beleriand**

Gary thanked the young elf who had helped him off with the magnificent armour Eonwe usually wore into battle and took the goblet of wine offered him by Tulcas with a smile of gratitude and a huge sigh of relief. The Vala gave him a quizzical look and sat down on one of the chairs around the small table which was groaning under the weight of the dinner that had been brought in earlier.

"That was an unusually fierce battle." He commented.

Gary sipped the wine and stretched his neck to the left and to the right to try to release some tension. "It was and I am not really used to carrying that sort of weight around when I fight." He said ruefully.

"You were particularly… intense." Tulcas stared intently at him. "I must admit I had never actually seen anyone fight in quite such an interesting fashion before."

A grin split Gary's face. "If you're referring to the fact that I used my head, fists and knees as well as the sword, I do not ask forgiveness for not fighting in an honourable way. Sometimes a Glasgow kiss will do just as well to immobilise an opponent as the flat edge of a sword."

Tulcas threw back his leonine head and roared with laughter. "What in the name of Eru is a 'Glasgow kiss'?"

"Um…it's what you might term a head butt. Not very chivalrous I admit, but it gets the job done." Gary chuckled. "I imagine that my other half doesn't have to go to those lengths."

Tulcas reached over and picked up a wafer of lembas. He turned it over in his hand thoughtfully, as if he was trying to decide whether it was worth eating or not. Gary watched him with a smile on his face. "Are you going to eat that or play with it?" He asked finally.

The Vala put it back on the dish and laughed. "Neither actually. I was just fidgeting, something Nessa lectures me about regularly. Wonderful stuff though. Just one bite will keep a grown man satisfied for a whole day."

Gary raised one eyebrow. "You sound like a television commercial. I haven't seen the Elves offering it to their mortal companions in arms though."

"Indeed not." Tulcas sounded shocked, but there was a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Lembas, otherwise known as Elvish Waybread, is not meant for the Secondborn, it's only made for the Eldar from a recipe handed down from Yavanna who grew the corn in the fields of Aman. The strength of the land is imparted to the corn as it grows and is therefore transferred to the person who ate the bread. She made it to give to the Eldar to keep them going on their long journey from Arda. The Elves rarely share lembas with mortals because it would cause them to become weary of their mortality and long for Aman, where they cannot go."

"How very elitist of them." Gary remarked and picked up a wafer of the bread. He looked up at Tulcas under the thick black fringes of his eyelashes. "Sounds a bit like what the British Army used to call Hard Tack biscuit. Am I allowed to eat it? Will _I_ become weary of mortality?"

Tulcas shook his head. "I doubt it, since no matter whether you are in a mortal body or not, your fea is immortal. In any case, you are not Eldar, but Maia and in your usual incorporeal state you have no need for sustenance. We only eat and indulge such things when we are fleshed and especially for the length of time we are expected to be corporeal here in Arda, our physical bodies suffer from lack of care and nourishment the same as any Elf or mortal man's would. Taste it. I personally prefer real food." He winked at Gary who laughed as the Vala took a large wing of some roast bird and bit into it. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as some of the rich juices dribbled down into his golden beard.

"It looks like Krackabread." Gary remarked as he took a bite out of the waybread. It was a pleasant enough taste, faintly sweet, with a delicate, slightly orange and vanilla under-taste and very creamy textured. A bit like Scottish shortbread, but much lighter. He finished it off and waited to see if it did anything special to him, but felt no different. "I don't feel any different really. It's a bit like a biscuit they have in my time called shortbread only not so solid. Am I supposed to feel more enervated or something?"

Tulcas paused in his tearing apart of the roasted wing and shrugged. "I doubt you will. You are not mortal, nor are you an elf. As I said, you are another sort of being altogether, but it's interesting to see you test yourself like this. Eonwe has never tasted lembas to my knowledge, nor does he particularly indulge in the more…_earthly_ pleasures usually. Personally I feel he is missing out, but the lad keeps to himself a great deal really. Not good for him. Not good at all. I keep trying to persuade him to be less…hmm…dutiful, shall we say, but he seems to think it would injure his dignity as Herald to Lord Manwe Sulimo. Silly boy."

"He didn't seem to consider his 'dignity' as a Herald when he took a tumble with my girlfriend and got her pregnant." Gary muttered darkly.

Tulcas shouted with laughter. "Indeed no. That was rather a turn up for the book. I truly would never have guessed at that level of passion in him. You are not still upset about that are you?"

"A little." Gary sniffed. "I tried so damn hard to do the right thing and still get her attention and the moment my back is turned she jumps some other guy's bones. And then there was Melannen."

Tulcas was arrested in mid-chew. He swallowed the lump of meat almost whole and shot an astonished look at Gary. "Melannen? That young brother of Ingwion's? He also took a tumble with her? Well I'll be damned. And what is jumping bones? It sounds _most_ uncomfortable."

Gary burst out laughing. "Melannen? No, no…I didn't mean he slept with Kim. Of course not, but when we first met him he was very nice to her and she responded to him much better than she did with me. I was far too busy being a bloody officer in the British Army." He sounded disgusted with himself.

Tulcas leant over and placed a placatory hand on his arm. "Stop being so hard on yourself. You were doing what you thought best for both of you. The trouble is that Eonwe is more emotionally vulnerable than he believes himself to be. He has laboured far too long over his disappointment when the Maia maiden Arien, who he had an interest in, took to pursuing Tilion. Personally I think those two deserve each other, all that chasing around the heavens and flirting has to make anyone fizzle-headed. The trouble was that Eonwe was far too flattered at her addle-brained attention, but his duty called him away far too often and she couldn't understand why his attention was not on her all of the time. She decided he was not what she wanted and took up with Tilion. Eonwe was very hurt and he closed off. He would not talk about it, just seethed in private and kicked himself for being a fool. I can still see that in you to some extent, but I think you deal with such things a lot better. Doubtless you have had more experience in your future mortal form with the ladies than he did as a Maia."

"Nice to see I've progressed in _something_ then." Gary said dryly. "Jumping bones is a metaphor for having physical relations with someone by the way."

"Ha!" Tulcas twinkled at him. "I must remember that. It will totally confound Nessa. She will not know what I am babbling about."

Gary chuckled. "Always good to keep them guessing I suppose." He cast a querying look at Tulcas. "So he…I…_did_ have a relationship with someone of my…our own kind then?"

Tulcas shrugged. "If you can call it that. I doubt he got much further than making moon-eyes at her and telling her that she was as beautiful as the starlight." He considered that for a moment. "No, strike that. I don't even think the silly lummox got _that_ far. He probably just sat utterly tongue-tied, stared at her with those terrifying and appealing blue eyes and fiddled with his sword a lot…" He stopped and flapped his hand at Gary who was creased over laughing. "Not _that_ kind of sword for Eru's sake…"

It was too late; they were both doubled up with hysterical laughter which ricocheted around the tent.

A smooth blond, braided head peeped hesitantly around the corner of the tent flap. "My lord?"

Wiping tears of mirth from their eyes, Gary and Tulcas managed to pull themselves together with great difficulty and said in unison. "Yes?"

The young warrior flushed with embarrassment. "Lord Eonwe, the Feanorians, Lords Maedhros and Maglor, are here with their report."

Gary shot an immediate questioning glance at Tulcas who smiled disarmingly at the young warrior. "Give us a moment would you?"

"Yes my Lord, but… there is one more thing. They have a young mortal woman with them and they are asking to see Lord Eonwe urgently."

ooOoo


	39. Dance with the Devil

**Dancing with the Devil in the pale moonlight**

"If you can keep your head when all around you are losing theirs,  
it's possible you haven't grasped the situation."  
-- **Jean Kerr, Please Don't Eat The Daisies **

**The Towers of Thangorodrim, Angband Fortress, far northern Beleriand**

Alun wasn't terribly sure if his digital watch was even working here, although the seconds and the hours moved on, there seemed to be no relief from the darkness which he had at first assumed was night. Now, after what seemed to be, according to his own body clock and the watch, many hours still the sky did not grow light. This was a place in perpetual darkness, although given the chill that he felt pervading his very bones once away from the fire in the huge grate, he thought that perhaps wherever it was, it was definitely far in the north and therefore the sun was perhaps weaker there.

If he went to the unglazed narrow window and peered out, he could just make out white patches here and there which were probably snow. The dark, serrated peaks of the mountains that he could just make out against the dark sky soared threateningly above him. Whatever moon or stars that might have been suspended in the sky behind the backdrop of the cruel peaks were covered in that faint wash of red, almost as though they had been painted out with blood. The air was so keen that he couldn't remain in the open aperture for very long and soon sought the relative warmth and light thrown out by the fire.

Of the ground he saw nothing much at all. Watch fires glowed red here and there, dotted around the immediate area of the building he was in and vague shadowed shapes could be seen moving about their business, but the almost depthless blackness prevented him from seeing if it was an army encamped there or just the servants of this Sauron and his master.

He'd never had much interest in history and this place seemed very medieval. It was difficult to place the dimension in any other era than perhaps the Dark Ages or even earlier. The inhabitants obviously practised and believed in magic though, that much was for certain if Sauron's door opening talents were anything to go by.

Trying to engage the servants in conversation proved to be a fruitless task. They brought hot water and surprisingly soft, white towels in utter silence and any attempt by him to pass the time of day with them was met with an uncomprehending stare from those dark, liquid eyes. Also, all of the servants he had seen so far were male, but if this was as 'primitive' a time a he thought it was and the servants were of Eastern or Arabic origins, their women were probably off-limits or kept in harems.

The soap they brought with the water looked quite rustic but smelled strongly of herbs, not unpleasant it had to be said, and quite refreshing. He stripped to the waist and had a thorough wash. It was while he was finishing rough drying his hair which he had dunked in the water that he suddenly became aware of another presence in the room. He cursed under his breath and turned on the spot to find Sauron seated not far away watching him with apparent interest. He gestured to the bed and Alun could see that there were some clean garments laid across the bed. He put the shirt on without comment, noting that it seemed to be made of very soft grey suede leather and instead of buttons; it had criss-cross ties at the neck.

For the first time Sauron had pushed the cowl back and revealed his face to be anything but the horror that Alun had at first imagined. Instead his features were even and delicately sculpted, his skin was pale and almost translucent and his eyes, although pale, seemed to change from silvery to green as the firelight flickered in their depths. His hair was black, but the light reflected off it giving it the appearance of being shot through with blue highlights and although the mass of it was hidden under the robes, Alun got the impression that it was very long.

Alun's surprise must have registered on his face because Sauron shot him a smile which was disarming in its beauty. "I gather you were expecting something altogether more monstrous." He said smoothly. Alun said nothing but kept a steady gaze on his companion. "Ah…a man who likes eye contact I see. Very good, however I see your surprise at my appearance and have made my own conclusions. You have perhaps heard things of me which were less than complimentary from ancient tales handed down to your own time."

That did surprise Alun quite a bit. This creature was basically _assuming _that Alun knew he was something from the myths and legends of ancient times of earth or Arda. On the other hand it also was entirely possible that Sauron now knew of his conversation with the Vala and was assuming that they had bad-mouthed him. Either way, he had to be very careful to remain neutral. One thing was certain, Sauron did not realise that he and his contemporaries had been relegated as fairytale characters to the imaginary tales and world of an English professor.

"I like to make my own mind up about things…and people in the absence of hard evidence." Alun said quietly. "That's an integral part of my profession."

Sauron smiled again and interest flickered in the depths of those pale eyes. "Profession? Ah, yes. As I understand it you are in something called 'law enforcement'. Rather a fascinating notion, people deliberately hired to enforce the laws. I find the notion quite appealing."

Alun didn't confirm or deny Sauron's assumption. Instead he remained quiet, but maintained eye contact. Sauron gestured at the small table beside him on which was a silver tray with a finely crafted crystal carafe filled with a deep, almost purple, liquid and two deep red goblets beautifully wrought with filigree silver. If he was annoyed with Alun's reticence he didn't show it. "Would you care for some wine?" He continued smoothly.

A slight flare of alarm sounded at the back of Alun's mind. He wasn't averse to tasting a good vintage and he imagined that this was one, but Irmo's caution about food and drink made him think twice. Despite his concerns though, he nodded in acceptance. If he started to refuse things now it would perhaps arouse Sauron's suspicions unduly. He decided that if Sauron had some of the wine, he would drink it. If not, well then he would just have to pretend to drink. He needed all his faculties to be present and correct.

Sauron handed him a glass and to Alun's intense relief also took a glass and sipped from it. "We Maiar do not have need for such corporeal things as food and drink, but I admit to a delight in them." He said reflectively.

Alun sipped cautiously and the delicious bouquet, reminiscent of berries and spice with an underlay of dark rich chocolate exploded on his palate. He took a deeper, more appreciative sip. "This is good stuff." He finally said and Sauron laughed softly.

"And there you were thinking I would poison you." He chided gently. "No matter what my other faults are, I would never sully good wine with opiates or poisons. That would be such a waste do you not think?" He didn't wait for an answer, but instead he bent forward conspiratorially. "And now, since the pleasantries are completed, you and I have some things to discuss. Events are marching on and original plans have a way of being overtaken by them."

Now they came to it, and what's more it sounded as though Sauron's original intentions had changed for some reason. Alun's heart sank into his boots.

Sauron smiled again like the Cheshire cat and if Alun had cared to look closer he might have seen the true depths of hell flickering in those pale eyes. He was not called Gorthaur the Cruel for nothing.

ooOoo

**A small valley in Beleriand, post-battle**

Now that the battle was over and the dust had settled Gil-galad's healers began to move among the fallen in order to assess the injured and count the dead.

Eonwe stood up shakily from where he and Glorfindel had collapsed in exhaustion after battling the Valarauko. His face was black with soot and a faint smell of burnt hair hung around his nostrils which told him that at some stage he had been singed by the heat surrounding the fallen Maia.

It had to be said that Glorfindel was not in much better shape, but unlike Eonwe he couldn't unflesh himself and remake his body. As Eonwe bent down and offered the dazed Elflord his hand he couldn't help grinning as he noticed that the very bottom of Glorfindel's golden hair as it stuck out of the helm was blackened and singed.

Glorfindel allowed himself to be hauled to a standing position and thanked the Maia for his help. He then yanked his helm off, lifted a hank of hair and surveyed it mournfully. "_Burnt_!" He said, putting a wealth of emotion into that one word.

Eonwe squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "I did warn you." He said with a grin.

A smile replaced the mournful expression on Glorfindel's fair face. "I know." He said ruefully and then glanced around him at the burnt patch of grass where the Valarauko had been. As he and Eonwe joined the others, he caught a few admiring glances from those warriors who had previously rolled their eyes whenever the Balrog incident was mentioned. He turned to Eonwe. "But it was worth it! Maybe now they will not make fun of me whenever Balrogs are mentioned!"

"Perhaps not." Eonwe said. "But then I think they like to tease you since you always rise to the bait." He placed his arm around Glorfindel's shoulders and gave him a hug. "You did well. Let no one say otherwise. I was grateful for the extra help."

Glorfindel's beautiful smoke blackened face lit up under the praise. He executed a graceful bow, hand on heart. "You are most welcome my Lord. Any time!"

"Well… if we are _quite_ finished with the back patting." Gil-galad approached them; his face wreathed in smiles. "There is work to be done here." He pointed at the warriors who were busy moving the dead orcs into a huge pile which would be set fire to later. Other warriors were lifting the injured away so that the healers could see to their wounds.

Eonwe saluted him with his blade. "Yes boss." There was a wicked note in his voice and a twinkle in his dark blue eyes. "Are there many dead?"

Gil-galad raised one dark eyebrow in puzzlement. "Boss? What is boss? We lost two warriors. Few enough, but I will not say _only_ two. Even one is too much of a loss. I am awaiting an assessment from the healers as to severity of injuries."

"What of the orc with the weapons?" Eonwe could not keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"He tried to run when the battle started, as we thought." Erestor answered the question. "Unfortunately he detected the movement of the orc battle party just as I was creeping up on him. When he stood up and realised that he was between two battle groups he obviously knew that his only chance for escape was to try and sneak through the hullabaloo of the battle. I managed to wound him before we were both overrun with orc and then I lost him as I fought for my life. However…" He grinned and indicated the roughly wrapped bundle at his feet. "He left something behind!"

Eonwe drew in a sharp breath and bent down to unwrap the bundle. The others stood with bated breath as he counted and then recounted to make sure. Finally he stood up and his face was concerned. "Apart from the two assault rifles we have in our possession, one other is missing." He gazed into the far distance as if trying to focus on the errant orc. "I can only think he has it with him, if he has survived the battle."

Gil-galad spoke quietly to Celeborn who nodded and went over to the warriors piling up the orc dead. They immediately began to search through the bodies, obviously looking for Thadak.

Gil-galad drew Eonwe away from the others. "I presume that even one weapon would be dangerous in the hands of Morgoth?"

Eonwe nodded grimly. "Melkor was, and still is, one of the most powerful to sing his part of the music. We should not underestimate him under any circumstances." He noted Gil-galad's surprise that he called Morgoth by his original name. Eonwe smiled, but it was not a cheery smile. "I do not ask pardon for speaking the name of Melkor rather than Morgoth. If names have power then the apparently lesser one given to him here has detracted from, rather than aided, his reputation. As Melkor he would at least have retained a reputation of being a Vala and therefore powerful. As Morgoth he seems somehow lessened and more mortal and therefore vulnerable in the eyes of those here in Endor. However he is _not_ mortal and he is _not _vulnerable to those not of the Ainur. Many brave Eldar have tried, including Feanor whose worth in that endeavour should not be decried. Even _I _do not have the power to destroy him. That belongs to his fellow Valar or to Eru. My instructions are to restrain him and bring him back in chains to face judgement by his peers."

Ereinion felt surprised and flattered at the Herald's confidence in him. "You have a point. I must admit that we tend to think of him as much more powerful than we are, but able to be killed. It had not occurred to me that even had the Eldar of Middle Earth _managed_ to capture him we would not have had any power to restrain him." This notion was very disturbing indeed.

"Indeed not. You would also not have had anywhere to keep him that he could not escape from. It was Feanor's outrage and fury over the Silmarils that kept him from seeing that."

"Ah yes, those dratted jewels. Valinor has a great deal to answer for, as do the Valar themselves." Ereinion's expression was grim. "Yet as I hear the stories passed down, yeni passed before the Valar came to speak to the people after the trees were destroyed." He couldn't keep the chiding note from his voice. "What were they _doing_ all that time? Did they not realise that the elves would have been lost and fearful in the dark with no explanations?"

Eonwe now realised fully how the actions of his masters and mistresses, the Valar, must have seemed and must seem even now to those who relied upon them. More so since he had actually set foot on Middle Earth and had dealings with the folk who dwelt here. If the Valar had acted sooner and not been so inflexible perhaps events might have taken a different turn. Perhaps even had they banned Finwe from re-marrying. He sighed to himself. The 'if only's' and 'what if's' were never-ending and futile.

"I will not say that their actions were the right ones." He said quietly, trying to choose his words carefully. "They _were_ grieving the loss of the trees and it was a grievous loss indeed. Time means little to the Ainur even by the standards of the Eldar. They were so grief-stricken that by the time it occurred to them to try and reassure everyone, the damage was done. Believe me, I and my fellow Maiar did try to make them see that they needed to make some appearance or some statement sooner rather than later, but we could not get past their grief. We did move among the Eldar ourselves to try and bring some measure of reassurance, but more than a few felt that the Valar had abandoned them when the light went out. It was not so of course, but I can see why they felt that."

Ereinion laughed dryly. "The Valar do not always get it right Herald. It is a sad fact that _most_ of their mistakes have impacted badly on Arda rather than in the Blessed Realm. Why do you think we are so stubborn and hold to our little patches of land here and why Lady Galadriel and her brothers left in the first place? They felt constrained by the Valar. Overlooked and told what to do, where to go and how to do everything. Treated like children. We who are here now and have lived and suffered will not suffer to be treated like silly children. That is why we fight and why we stay. Here, we are at least in _some_ command of our destinies and lives."

Eonwe could not answer him. He felt distress, of course, at Gil-galad's cynicism over the beings he, Eonwe, had served so loyally since the beginning, before the children even came. However his interaction with the more worldly Gary and his discussions with the people of Arda had tempered and changed his blind loyalty to the Valar who apparently had feet of clay and made mistakes like anyone else.

A vague notion began to occur to him that things would not go back to being the same when he eventually returned to his duties in Valinor and it was a bleak notion. He had changed. He could feel it deep within him. Gary had changed him; the fact that he had now fathered a child had changed him. Just Kim existing and capturing his love had changed him. Arda and the people here had changed him.

Even as the notion occurred a feeling of sadness swept over him, a feeling that was echoed far away in Oiolosse on the slopes of Taniquetil, and he knew that his Lord had heard every word between him and the High King. Manwe did feel regret for things left undone and some guilt at actions taken which could have been better thought out and Eonwe suddenly knew where this would lead them all. He knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that after he had brought Melkor back to face judgement, future dealings between Arda and Valinor would be limited and this did not bode well for the brave folk he saw every day around him should darkness arise again for any reason.

But of that he could say nothing. All he could do was feel sorrow and silently renew his oath to bring down their darkest enemy. This time at least.

Celeborn broke into the deep silence that had arisen between the High King and the Herald. "He is not there and there is no sign of the weapon."

Eonwe sighed deeply. "Then he has taken it and gone forward to his destination. We must follow, or I must at least." He gave a wan smile.

"_We_ must." Gil-galad asserted firmly. "It is _our_ future at stake as much as yours or future Arda's. But first we take rest and some nourishment, see to the wounded and we will set a pyre. I will not have the good earth sullied by these vile and abhorrent creatures rotting into it."

Eonwe nodded wearily and smiled his thanks. "All things of flesh return to the earth my Lord." He said softly. "It is the way of all things. Even the orc can rot and turn to dust and his body can replenish the ground like any other creature of flesh and bone."

"Well the ground will just have to make do with the ashes." Came Gil-galad's cheerful reply as he turned towards the healer who was bringing him a situation report on the wounded.

Cirdan chuckled. "Come along Master Herald. He is in one of his stubborn moods and hell bent on seeing to his men, which leaves me to see to you. We have set a small fire and have some cordial which should put the colour in your cheeks, if not hair on your chest! That's supposing we can get there before the Chief drinks it all."

Eonwe wrinkled his nose and absently touched his chest. "Hair on my chest? Why would I…." He heard Gary laughing inside his head. "Never mind." He followed Cirdan towards a small group crouched around a small camp-fire.

_You'll never guess who I have standing in front of me._ Gary said wickedly in Eonwe's mind.

ooOoo


	40. A Light in the Darkness

**Disclaimer: See chapter 2**

Thanks to those who have reviewed, apologies for the delay in posting this chapter, real life kinda got in the way. This chapter is dedicated to my last anonymous poster who wanted more of the Feanorians, Elrond and Elros.

**Rimmer:** I am a 2nd Technician in the Space Corps, I am briefed to give you my name  
and number and nothing more. I don't know who you people are or what you think you're  
playing at, but I'm not going to give you anything else. You can oil me all you like, you  
can use your tongues and your full sensual lips to caress my erogenous zones onto a  
plateau of sexual ecstasy, but I will tell you now, this nut's not for cracking. However,  
_far_be it for me to change your game plan, if you absolutely _insist_on using erotic persuasion  
to achieve your devious ends, so be it. Just have a large quattro formagio pizza with extra  
olives ready at the end. Ahh - where are you going? What are you doing? My God, are you  
going to take a flying leap?'  
**Woman:** 'We are going to summon the Master.'  
**Rimmer: **'The Master?'  
**Woman:** 'You have been prepared for him.'  
**Rimmer:** 'This Master character - and I acknowledge I may not want to know the full  
answer to this one - but why does he want me oiling in particular? Obviously  
whatever he has in mind is facilitated by my being slippery and pliant, yes?'  
**Woman:** 'He always likes his victims to be oiled. An oiled body is so much  
better for conducting the electricity.'  
**Rimmer: '**Not the best news, but it could have been worse.'  
**- Red Dwarf**

**A Light in the Darkness**

Elrond thrust Kim behind him and whispered a soft command to his horse which immediately disappeared with the other mounts into the forest. She looked at him in query, but he gently put one finger on her lips before she could speak.

"Orc ahead of us." He said simply in a low voice. Elros had taken a defensive stance to one side of his brother, also in front of Kim.

She cast a wild glance around and saw that other warriors had slipped into defensive mode with the practised ease of people long used to being ambushed. She could see that the flame coloured head of Maedhros was bent close to his brother's darker one in conference. Maedhros jerked his head over towards Kim and she realised that they were discussing her. She bit her lip and looked down at the ground.

"It is not your fault." Elrond said in his faltering attempt at English.

Tears sparkled on her lashes when she looked up at him. "Isn't it?" She pointed at Maedhros. "I think he might disagree with you there."

Elros spoke without turning to look at her. "We are close to the camp of Eonwe and the Host of the Valar. It is very unusual for orc patrols to come so close, they do not dare. One of Morgoth's more senior Maiar lieutenants might withstand the light that comes from a Valar and a Maia of Eonwe's standing, not to mention the Elven commanders who have all seen the light of the Two Trees, but an ordinary orc patrol could not. That they dare to come so close indicates that their mission is a special one."

"One to do with me?" Kim asked fearfully. "But why do they want me so badly?"

Elrond shrugged, he had no ready answer for her question, so his brother replied instead. "We know not, but you are under the protection of Maedhros now. He does not dislike humans, he...we... have just had very little to do with them, but even if he did dislike them he would not hand you or any other over to those despicable creatures without a fight."

Maedhros made his way silently and swiftly over to where the three were standing, Kim noticed that the elf moved with a deadly, almost feline grace. He stopped just short of Kim and spoke rapidly to Elrond in their language. Not for the first time Kim thought it sounded like a babbling brook chuckling it's way over stones.

Elrond turned to her. "Our scout says there is a man with the orc, dressed in strange clothing, when the orc leader spoke to him he answered in your language. There others of your kind here?"

"I...I suppose it could be Chief Knowles." She replied in a faltering tone. "He went off with some other man...elf called Kelly Brimber or something like that."

Maedhros' head whipped around, as fast as a striking snake." Celebrimbor?" He seized Kim's arm so firmly that she flinched. "What do you know of my nephew? Is he near?" He hissed.

Unfortunately Kim's growing Sindarin vocabulary and command of the language was still too sketchy for her to understand everything he said, so when all she looked was confused, Maedhros sighed and spoke again to Elrond.

"Celebrimbor is the nephew of my Uncles Maedhros and Maglor." Elrond explained to Kim very slowly while the red-haired elf stood by with an impatient look on his handsome face. "He wants to know how you know him."

Kim hesitated, not too sure how much to tell them or indeed even how much they would understand. "Well...I was with three others from my...um...place where I live, Gary, Chief Knowles and Jim when we first got here, we had no idea where we were or where we were going and we met up with the High King with the funny name, I keep wanting to call him Gil-Galang, but I think it's really Gil-Galad. He has an army with him and Kelly Brimber is with them too. There is an orc who took weapons that belong to us and we were chasing them to get them back. My boss, Chief Knowles went with Kelly Brimber to make some ammunition so we could use the weapons we still had. Then I got separated from them, and then you found me."

Elrond patiently repeated the gist of her tale to Maedhros who nodded and looked at her intently with those bright green eyes. An almost feral grin spread across his face. "So..." He said very slowly in heavily accented English. Kim felt surprise that he had obviously learned some English almost as quickly as the twins. He had apparently been paying closer attention to the language lessons than anyone realised. "My cousin Ereinion is here and with a force of his own."

He looked over wryly at Elrond and Elros who had both stiffened at the news. A faint flush had risen in Elrond's cheeks and Kim could see a faint glow in his beautiful grey eyes. Elros' expression was much harder to read. A flicker of some emotion appeared in his grey eyes, but apart from that he seemed unimpressed for the most part.

It struck Kim that out of the two of them Elros was much more human than elf. Even his build was slightly more muscular than his brother who was much more slender of waist and chest and who clearly favoured the elven side. He met her gaze squarely and calmly and then gave her a quick cheery grin which she returned with a hesitant smile of her own.

"The man with the orc, could he be one of those who was with her?" Maedhros addressed the question in Sindarin to Elrond who repeated it to Kim.

She nodded unhappily. "It could be, but if it is, it means he was captured then, so I don't know what happened to the elves with him." She looked up at Elrond. "I won't know whether it's him until I see him."

Once Elrond had repeated what she had said to Maedhros he nodded and held out his only hand. He obviously wanted her to go with him. She looked around uncertainly at the twins who both nodded in encouragement, so she took the hand and was startled to see a faint look of wonder appear in those green eyes, as if he had suddenly become aware of something wonderful and astonishing at the touch of her skin against his. He smiled then, and it was a beautiful thing to behold. He said something to the twins and Maglor who was now standing beside them and they all then looked at her in astonishment.

"Wh...what is it?" She asked Elrond. "What's wrong?"

Elrond laughed softly and touched her cheek in reassurance. "It is nothing to be concerned over. Go with Maedhros, he wishes you to see this human who travels with the orc with such impunity. You will be safe with him, I promise you."

ooOoo

A few moments later Kim found herself being steered silently through the trees, Maedhros indicated for her to walk in his footsteps and she had learned enough field craft in the military to understand the necessity for caution. Without thinking she began to automatically put those lessons into action – shape, shine, shadow and silhouette, the first things to be careful of when a soldier wished to remain undetected. Maedhros saw her actions and gave her a quick brilliant smile of approval. She blushed with pleasure. This was the first time in days, with the exception of the way the twins treated her, that she felt approved of and it felt very nice. All of a sudden she didn't feel useless and unwanted and it gave her morale and spirits an immense boost.

The scout in front of them gave a soft call. He crouched down behind a thicket and indicated for Kim and Maedhros to do the same.

The sounds of creatures absolutely uncaring of whether they were detected or not reached her ears and the awful reek of the orc assailed her nostrils. She pulled up short in distress. Maedhros turned to her and smiled again in reassurance. He gestured for her to move closer to him and placed his finger on his lips as she shuffled forward, still in a crouching position. She nodded, so he gently held her in front of him and pointed through a gap in the foliage of the bushes they were crouched behind.

At first Kim couldn't make out too much other than what appeared to be a great many of those filthy things rambling aimlessly around, snapping and snarling at each other. Two particularly huge specimens blocked her gaze of the whole group until an even larger creature, obviously in command of them blundered over and struck each in turn with the flat edge of his huge sword with a bark of admonition. They immediately parted and Kim got her first unimpeded look at the man sitting calmly on a large stone while chaos reigned supreme around him.

Beside the seated man, who had his head turned away from them, and slightly in front of him stood something that certainly _had _the shape of a man, but he was perhaps the tallest she had ever seen, at least seven foot and dressed from head to foot in black armour with a long and voluminous black cloak. Where part of his face should have been visible through his helm, she could see nothing at all apart from two red pinpricks where his eyes should have been.

More importantly, the feeling of deathly chill which emanated from that figure billowed out towards those hidden and watching. Kim heard Maedhros draw in a sharp breath and the elven scout's face had gone very pale. The fell chill spread over her almost through to her bones. Her mouth filled with bile which burned her throat as it surged upwards from her stomach. Her eyelids fluttered as a wave of dizziness surged over her and she could feel herself beginning to fall only to be held upright and firm by Maedhros. He drew her very close to him, almost in a lover's embrace, at the same time as reaching out to the other elf and whispered words against her hair. She felt a glow begin in her belly and the atmosphere around the three of them suddenly lightened, as if a thousand megawatt light bulb had been switched on from somewhere.

The armoured creature behind the man immediately straightened up. His penetrating gaze swivelled around the area, searching through the bushes until finally it rested almost at the place where Kim, Maedhros and the scout stood, hardly daring to breathe and definitely not daring to move.

The creature took a pace forward, cloak swirling around its form like dark impenetrable smoke, almost as though it was going to walk straight to them, but the seated man then stood up and spoke to it. In doing so he had to turn in the direction of where Kim was standing and she caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

She couldn't help the slight horrified gasp that issued from her.

ooOoo

As soon as his terrifying escort took a step forward, Alun Davies knew without a doubt that the object of his task as set by Sauron was close by. The Maia with him knew it also and acted from instinct as it moved away to meet the enemy. Alun could sense the triumph and venom roiling through this creature's black soul, so he did the only thing he could think of and stood up to remind the Maia of his Lord's strict instructions.

Alun had also felt the lightening of the atmosphere around him and was glad for it, even though he had no idea where it was coming from. It reminded him very much of the aura that had surrounded the Valar he had met in his dreamscape and he drew a sudden courage and flash of hope from it.

Normally he wouldn't have dreamt of laying one finger on this awful and corrupt being. He hadn't dealt with any number of really nasty hardened criminals in his police career for nothing. He knew when to touch someone meant instant hurt and in the case of this dreadful Maia, he knew he risked instant death. Yet still the need to protect the innocent and the vulnerable overrode his natural fear and caution. He placed a staying hand on the creature's metal clad arm and its helmeted head swung around until the malevolent red eyes gazed fully upon him.

Alun felt his insides quail. He desperately tried to take the strength from that flash of hope and gather it up. He needed to clearly imprint the fact that his task as given to him by Sauron was far more imperative than any kind of malicious and evil desire this Maia had to cause harm to anything it felt was in its way.

After a few moments of those terrible eyes searching his face and seeking entry to his mind, the creature then made a noise that sounded half groan and half hoarse sigh. The massive head nodded and instead of striding towards the bushes and blasting the eavesdroppers with one freezing glance, the Maia beckoned to the orc commander instead and started speaking in that dreadful guttural language they used specifically to talk to creatures of lesser dominion. Alun had learned that far from appreciating and trusting their common footsoldiers, Morgoth and his lieutenants were contemptuous of them and kept order by fear and pain. These orcs and the other lesser creatures like wargs were cannon fodder; nothing but a means to an end.

After a few minutes of conversing, the Maia came back and stood in front of Alun. It's voice, when it finally spoke, sounded like the harsh whisper of a painful death. It was icy cold and struck fear into Alun's very soul.

"_The woman is nearby, as are her protectors. We have been told to stay in the vicinity to ensure your actions are carried out in accordance with my Lord's will but we cannot approach nearer to the camp of Eonwe." _ It spat the name out as if it was sheer poison, then it turned and pointed at an overgrown path of sorts through the trees. _"Go now. Make yourself known to the woman and those with her. Ensure that you earn their trust, but always be mindful that we are watching. Your family stands as guarantee for your good behaviour. Never forget that."_

Then he and his escort suddenly turned and left the small clearing, leaving Alun feeling strangely exposed and alone.

ooOoo

"What were they saying?" Kim whispered to Maedhros who finally released his hold her her.

"I know not." He answered truthfully. "The black speech of Morgoth is not something I ever learned. It is some ancient form of the speech of the Valar and Maia I think, or so my Atar always thought." He jerked his head towards the man now standing alone in the clearing. "Is that who you thought it was?"

Kim shook her head. "No." She followed Maedhros' gaze and stared at Alun Davies thoughtfully. "That is someone else entirely and I have no idea why or how he's here, but from where I am from, he is one of the good guys."

Maedhros only understood a few of her comments, but even if he didn't understand exactly what was said, he did get the gist of it.

He put one surprisingly gentle finger under her chin and lifted her face so that she had to look into his eyes. "But he _is_ known to you yes?"

Kim's lip trembled but she stood her ground under his piercing gaze. "Yes. I know him."

Maedhros spoke to the scout who disappeared silently through the trees after the departing Maia and his orc escort and then he led Kim back to the main group.

Kim sat on the ground wrapped up in Elrond's spare cloak and with one warrior standing guard beside her while Maedhros, his brother, the twins and the others discussed the situation. She didn't look up in their direction, but she could feel it when they stared at her.

However one thought constantly flew around her head. What on earth was Detective Chief Inspector Alun Davies doing here in Middle Earth? How had he arrived here and more importantly, why was he here? Because from where Kim was standing it looked very much as though he had thrown his lot in with the enemy. The very thought of it made her want to weep.

ooOoo


	41. Dr Livingstone I presume?

**Buffy:** "This guy could be anybody. He could be weird or crazy or old or...  
he could be a circus freak--he's probably a circus freak!"  
**Xander**: "Yeah, I mean we read about it all the time. You know, people meet  
on the net, they talk, they get together, have dinner, a show...horrible axe murder."  
**Buffy**: "Willow, axe murdered by a circus freak!  
...We are totally overreacting!"  
**Xander:** "But it's fun, isn't it?"  
-**Buffy the Vampire Slayer**

**Dr Livingstone I presume?**

Where before there had been a great deal of noise, there was now a deathly silence. Not even birdsong or the rustling of small animals, something one would have expected in the middle of a forest, could be heard.

Alun Davies was used to forests. He lived almost cheek by jowl with one of the most beautiful forest areas in the South of England. It was almost on his doorstep so to speak. It could be gloomy in the depths where the ancient trees grow, with their long trunks and the canopy of leaves and branches high above the forest floor which prevented nothing but mere chinks of sunlight to penetrate the gloom, but it was _never _silent. Not like this. It was as though the trees and the plants were awaiting some doom that even the wildlife had long since fled from.

He shivered, not from the awful cold that had pervaded him inside and out when he left Thangorodrim in the company of evil, but from a sudden fearful notion that he was standing right in the path of some very unnatural disaster. The very atmosphere of the place he now stood in was wrong. And hot; dear god in heaven it was hot and sticky. There was no breeze at all and the shirt which apparently had been laundered up in that awful place was now sticking to his back with sweat. He had long since abandoned his overcoat which lay on the ground beside him along with the pack of supplies he had been given by the servants of Sauron.

Where before there had been the snuffling and grunting of the orc along with the crashing of their heavy iron-clad feet, there was now nothing. Just the awful silence, heavy with premonition.

He would have even gladly welcomed a wild boar as company rather than this ghastly silence and therefore he contemplated the overgrown path which had been pointed out to him by the Maia. Where there were paths, theoretically there were people, or at least something that would regularly travel along a route enough to make some sort of path. The trouble was, did he really want to meet with whoever or whatever it was that was responsible? And him without any kind of weapon at all?

Nevertheless, a path it was, and so he decided to investigate at least, with caution of course, but not without something to defend himself with.

He looked around him for something likely, perhaps a long heavy branch he could use as a club, but none of the dead wood and branches lying around seemed either long enough or substantial enough. As a child he had been pretty good with home made catapults and he understood the theory behind the ancient slingshot, as used by David against Goliath. He had nothing elastic to make a decent catapult, even if he found a suitable forked stick, so instead he took his shirt off and carefully ripped a strip of material from around the bottom of it and fashioned a very primitive slingshot.

Now for the projectiles. Small stones preferably. The forest floor was covered in a carpet of leaves and other plant debris, thousands perhaps millions' of years worth, but there was the outcropping of rocks he had been sitting on earlier, so he set about trying to dig around the stones in the hopes of finding something small enough for use as ammunition.

He was successful in finding about a dozen smallish stones and began to straighten up. An ache in his lower back told him that he had been bending over in the wrong position, something his wife was forever nagging at him about. A sudden longing for her and his kids and his real life swept over him. Stinging tears pricked at the back of his eyes but he pushed the longing back, blinked the tears away and concentrated on standing up slowly so that he didn't strain anything. It was important that he kept his focus. Many lives depended on it, not least his own.

He winced as he straightened his back and gingerly rubbed against the sore base of his spine with his free hand. It was then that he felt the tip of something very sharp and lethal against his jugular.

"_Daro.."_ The voice was soft and deadly, but even though Davies had no idea what the word meant, the tone of voice and sound of it convinced him that sudden movement was entirely the wrong thing to make at that time. He began to turn around very slowly indeed, opening his hands and dropping the stones to show he was unarmed.

ooOoo

The elves concealed in the trees and bushes watched curiously as the man slowly assessed his surroundings and then proceeded to tear pieces off his clothing before searching around for something on the ground.

Maedhros allowed himself a certain grim admiration as he realised that the Edain was actually fashioning a primitive weapon and looking for something to use as ammunition. The fact that the Maia had left this man without a weapon in an area filled with potential danger told him a great deal about the nature of his connection with them. If he was indeed part of the enemy then one would have assumed that he would have had something to protect himself, even something as small as a knife. Unless of course his escort had remained close enough to hear his cry for assistance, however Golradir had confirmed that the Maia and his party of orc had moved quite some distance away.

He was certainly not a Maia with some hidden talent for death and destruction. There were no dark thoughts or evil intent emanating from him. The weapon he fashioned was similar to something he had once seen while visiting a settlement of men. It had been fashioned by a young Edain shepherd as a form of protection against wild animals before setting out to take his flocks to higher pasture.

Maedhros narrowed his eyes. Of course this also meant that the man was at least familiar with weaponry, primitive or not, and therefore caution was to be exercised around him. With that in mind he silently moved out of cover and crossed the clearing over to where the Edain was hunting for something on the forest floor. As the elf moved he equally silently slid the wicked-looking long curved elven blade out of the scabbard and placed it against the neck of the man who, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was one slice away from death, was standing up rubbing one hand along the base of his spine.

"_Daro..."_ Maedhros noticed that the Edain froze instantly, hand still in place. The man's fear and unease were almost palpable. After a couple of seconds, he slowly and very carefully turned to face his assailant, both hands open to show that he concealed no weapon, but when he beheld the tall beautiful creature with long flame coloured hair and unnaturally bright green eyes in front of him, his face showed both shock and wonderment. An expression that only increased when yet another tall beautiful creature with the same bright eyes but dark hair stepped from his place of concealment.

"Al-un Day-vees I presume?" The beautiful young man grinned widely and held out a slender hand. He spoke in stilted English with a heavy accent.

Alun Davies just looked completely bewildered as he nodded in assent and took the hand offered to him.

ooOoo

Kim was confused. Not an unusual situation it had to be said, she had been permanently confused since she, Gary and the others had been dragged into this mess and the sudden appearance of Alun Davies had only added to the confusion. However this current confusion had more to do with the strange feelings in her belly that she was feeling since Maedhros had pulled her close and spoken soft words against her hair.

If Maedhros had been a modern human male, she would have just assumed he was trying to cop a sly feel, but she had now been in the presence of elves long enough to know that they simply didn't do things like that. Gary had explained, in the aftermath of their lovemaking when they had been quietly talking to each other, that it was against their nature. Unlike mortals who could bounce from one partner to another, Elves mated for life and knew instantly when the other was the right one for them. Lucky old them, she had thought at the time.

Gary's face, with those gorgeous dark blue eyes, hung in front of her vision for a split second and she felt an immediate sharp pang of loss for the fact that she was unlikely to see him any time soon. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so many apologies she wanted to make...to him, to Jim for being such a selfish little idiot. And now maybe she would never get the chance.

Indeed Kim Freeman had learned a lot from the present company she was keeping, about elves, about herself and about life, and now she was terrified that she would never get a chance to put anything right. She had been behaving like a sulky child instead of a mature woman in her mid thirties and the memories of her behaviour made her feel thoroughly ashamed of herself.

However the feeling of light, protection and warmth that had surrounded her, Maedhros and the scout, whose name she now knew was Golradir, had lasted with her long after its glow had permeated around the three of them. True, that glow was now limited to her abdominal region, but for some odd reason it was still filling her with warmth. She felt calmer and safer than she had felt in a long while and she had no idea why she should be feeling that way.

Had Gary or Eonwe been there they could have enlightened her about the child she was carrying and its nature. Unlike Luthien Tinuviel who was the product of a Maia mother and an Elven father and whose mother understood the true nature of their child, this child was the product of a Maia father and a mortal woman. A very powerful Maia father in fact. Kim didn't even know she _was_ pregnant, never mind understood that Gary was neither human or mortal or that the baby she had in her womb was special in any way.

They would have been able to explain that in the case of such pregnancies the child was conceived with a certain power of its own and in the case of her child it an inherent ability to protect its mother to some degree. And, if the right words were spoken, it could extend the protection for a short while to any who were in close contact with the mother. Hence the close, almost intimate, embrace from Maedhros who, as an elf who had seen the light of the Two Trees and been in the company of angels, understood the nature of such things.

However, while Kim didn't for one minute think that the devastatingly handsome elf with red hair and one hand had the hots for her, she still wondered how he had managed to evoke this feeling of safety and well-being. She also realised that since they had returned from their spy mission, the elves had been treating her with a certain respect and deference. Even the twins who up to that point had treated her just like another of their own age. Something had changed to alter their perception of her and the only thing she could think of was the incident with Maedhros and the light.

Her new-found understanding of things and return to the more sensible modern Kim told her that this was not the time to ask such questions. They had more important things to worry about, such as why Alun Davies was travelling with the mortal enemies of the people of Middle Earth.

ooOoo

The elves who ushered him into their temporary camp weren't rough with him. They were cautious and watchful, but Alun could hardly blame them for that. The red-head appeared to be their leader and the young man who had spoken in hesitant English to him seemed to be related to him. So far they had volunteered no names, which was a bit unnerving since they obviously knew who he was. The other unnerving thing was that they had appeared so silently from the trees, almost as though they had been watching. If they had, then it might have seemed to them that he was in cahoots with the Maia and orcs. That would be very unfortunate if Kim was with them when it came to getting her trust. They were hardly likely to allow her to just go off with him without protest or a fight. He knew he wasn't bad in a fight, but not against the consummate warriors this lot seemed to be.

He was taken near to the fire where another impossibly beautiful creature with long black hair and soulful grey eyes sat lightly strumming a small harp. He made no acknowledgement of Alun's presence other than a faint smile. The red-head spoke to the young man who inclined his head respectfully and then disappeared. Red-head then indicated that he was to sit down. There were no convenient rocks for him to sit on so he folded his overcoat up and sat down cross legged on it. His pack was nowhere to be seen, they had taken it away, probably to search it for weapons.

Alun glanced around him. They were obviously in the process of breaking camp since some of the warriors were rolling up their blankets and fixing packs to their horses. A few curious glances were sent his way, but apart from that most behaved as though it was the most natural thing in the world for a strangely dressed man in an overcoat to be dropped in the middle of a forest and then brought to their camp-site. He was not bound, but then he guessed that they assumed that he would hardly be likely to run anywhere with no weapon or form of transport. In any case if he ran they could soon hunt him down.

"Inspector Davies?" The voice was soft and hesitant.

He looked up to find Kim standing in front of him and immediately stood up with his arms outstretched.

"Sergeant Freeman, I can't tell you how delighted I am to find you alive and well."

She smiled and grasped his hands. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to see you...only.." She bent closer and lowered her voice. "They are worried as to why you were with those awful orc creatures."

He nodded. "I was afraid of that." He glanced around him. "But to be honest this is not the time or place to talk about that. Who are these people? And where are Major Matthews, Chief Knowles and my young constable?"

"They're elves." She said. "And I can honestly say I have absolutely no idea where Gary, Chief or Jim are. I stupidly ran away from them into the woods. We got separated and these elves found me. They're taking me to some large military camp or other."

Alun stared at her. She could only be referring to the camp of the Host of the Valar. For the first time in days he felt a shred of real hope. The Maia and orcs who escorted him from Thangorodrim had been very afraid to get too close to the armies of the Host. If they could only reach there, then perhaps the protection of the Valar and the Maia commander Eonwe would keep that creature Sauron at bay. They could perhaps even get him and Kim at least back to the rift in the timelines so that they could get back through to their own time. Now all he had to worry about was finding some way to either warn his wife or the authorities that she and his children might be in danger.

He was also tempted to mention the baby to her but stopped himself in time. Their situation was complicated enough without him adding that to it. If the pregnancy was still in the early stages she wouldn't be aware of it. He would do her no favours by mentioning it at this point.

By this time the young man who had spoken English had reached them. He smiled at Kim and gave her shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze then he held out his hand to Alun "I am Elrond Earendilion."

Alun grinned at him. "Pleased to meet you, Alun Davies, but we did meet earlier."

He watched the young man frown as he tried to assimilate and make sense of what Alun was saying, then his face lit up. He shook his head. "No...not me." He pointed across the camp. "Elros!"

Alun saw another man identical to the one in front of him stand up and wave. "Muindor nin." Elrond said with a huge grin. "My bru-ther."

"They're learning English." Kim said. "They're very good and very quick. Much faster than I am at learning their language."

"You are getting better." Elrond reassured her.

"You're twins." Alun said, feeling a bit silly that he was stating the obvious.

Before Elrond could answer Maedhros approached leading a bay mare. He spoke to Elrond who turned to the policeman. "My uncle wishes to know if you can ride. If not then one of the warriors will take you up with him." Alun noticed that his English was halting but improving with every word spoken.

He took the reins from Maedhros and gently brushed a hand down the mare's silky nose. "Tell him that I've been riding since I was small. You _are_ a beautiful girl aren't you." He murmured. The mare gently nibbled at his hand looking for something nice to eat and snickered in approval.

Maedhros nodded in approval. If the Edain had any evil in him, the mare would have detected it and reacted accordingly. Elven horses would not suffer creatures of evil to ride them. This man merely looked foul, but no matter what reason he had to be travelling with the Maia, he felt fair . He shouted an abrupt order which sent the twins to their horses but left Kim standing with Alun. Before he could ask whether Kim wanted to ride with him, the twin who called himself Elrond rode over and offered his hand to Kim, then he swung her up on the horse behind him.

Alun shrugged and mounted his own horse and moments later they were pounding through the forest. He hoped to hell that these guys knew where they were going because it all looked the same to him.

ooOoo


	42. The Lesser of Two Evils

**Spike:** Oh, someone put a stake in me.  
**Xander:** You got a lot of volunteers in here.  
**Spike:**I just can't take all this namby-pamby boo-hooing about the bloody Indians.  
**Buffy:** Uh, the preferred term is...  
**Spike:**You won. All right? You came in and you killed them and you took their land. That's what conquering nations do. It's what Caesar did, and he's not going around saying, "I came, I conquered and boo hoo, I felt really bad about it." The history of the world isn't people making friends. You had better weapons, and you massacred them. End of story.  
**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer**

**Chapter 42 – The Lesser of Two Evils**

Jim took the small cup of cordial and smiled his thanks at Olorin. "Nice to have you back and in one piece too. You look a lot better than you did when you set out."

Olorin raised an eyebrow and grinned at him. "You sound surprised at that. My powers of recuperation must be better than I thought they were." He sensed a whole world of questions threatening to burst from Jim that he didn't really feel equipped to answer so instead he looked around and decided that diverting the topic of conversation from him and his miraculous recovery to the much safer subject of Kim's whereabouts was in order. "But where is Kim? I don't see her anywhere. Did they hide her for safety or something?"

Jim paled. This was going to be a bit awkward given the Chief's obvious affection for Kim. "Er... well..." He sounded rather unhappy, but before he could continue Eonwe interrupted him.

"We are not sure where she is Chief." He said gently, knowing that whatever information he gave his fellow Maia would be passed on to the real Chief currently residing in the Halls of Mandos. "She dashed off into the forest after a small argument. Search parties were sent out but to no avail. We thought at first that the orc Thadak had taken her and we could see signs of a scuffle, but it was obvious that others intervened. Another party of Eldar. We believe that she was discovered by Maedhros and his brother Maglor. It would appear that they chased the orc off and took her with them. At least that's what we _hope_ happened."

Olorin wisely refrained from commenting immediately. Instead he conveyed his now certain knowledge of Kim's whereabouts to Eonwe in thought. Eonwe listened and although he felt a pang of loss with the knowledge that it would be some time before he saw her again, he felt gladdened by the confirmation that Kim was indeed in the company of the Feanorians. Obsessed with the Silmarils and their oath they might be, but they would not harm Kim. Not unless she stood between them and those jewels and since she didn't even know they existed and cared less, she wasn't about to make that mistake.

Eonwe would have had little understanding of Gil-galad's abhorrence of the Silmarils, the enforced exile of the Noldor and his ambivalence towards the Valar prior to leaving Valinor to come east with the Host. Now, however, he had seen and heard much from those same Noldor and learned much from his future self. His subsequent view of Gil-galad's outburst and his own attitude to the sons of Feanor was a lot more sympathetic and understanding than it might have been.

If the Valar had pulled it all together faster after Ungoliant sapped the life from the Trees and had not alienated Feanor to such a degree in the first place, then perhaps the Simarils would not have been so sought after and then refused. True, Melkor would still have slain Finwe and taken them, but then the blame, if one were apportioning it, firmly rested with Lord Manwe who had been too forgiving and trustful of his brother. Had Melkor not been released on his own recognisance, then he would not have whispered his honeyed and insidious evil on the fertile ground of Feanor's ire and disgruntlement with the very beings who had allowed his father to re-marry in the first place.The root cause of the whole sorry matter.

He heaved a deep inward sigh. So many mistakes, so many mis-spoken oaths, so much bloodshed and all ultimately leading to this War of Wrath. They did not belong here, he and his armies. They had not come with the sole intent of rescuing the people of Arda although that was meant to be a by-product of the war. They had come to find Melkor and bring him to justice and grant the exiled Eldar the privilege of sailing West. The earth would be changed from the fall out of their actions and many innocent people would die or suffer. What did Gary call it? Collateral damage, that was it. In essence they were hardly any better than a conquering army rampaging through a land they did not belong in and the realisation left a rather bitter taste in Eonwe's mouth.

The only shred of comfort he could take from it all was, ironically, Gary's presence. At least that meant that Arda did survive in some shape or form. If it had not, then what would be the purpose of sending his future self there?

Olorin broke into his meandering thought processes. _The young one, Jim. He knows you are Eonwe and not Gary?_

_Yes._Eonwe replied absently_. He guessed. He was angry at first, but he also feels guilty that Kim ran off. He was the last one to talk to her before she did so._

_Ah, I see. A heavy burden for one so young to carry. Let us see if we can perhaps lighten it for him a little. _

Olorin reached out and put a sympathetic hand on Jim's arm. "You shouldn't beat yourself up about this Jim. If she _is_ with Maedhros and his group, then I'm sure they'll keep her safe." He offered another small drop of the cordial to the young policeman.

Jim stared into the heart of the fire. "I bloody hope so. Although I'm not sure they know what they're letting themselves in for." He said dryly. He tossed back the remainder of the cordial and allowed its warmth and goodness to spread over him. His Grandma has always told him what can't be cured, must be endured and he could see the wisdom of that now. There was nothing he could do about Kim at that moment and there were more pressing problems to hand.

Eonwe smiled at him. "If she is with Maedhros then we can be assured that they will take her to my camp and to Gary and Lord Tulkas. I'm sure that the two of them can handle one Kim." Even a pregnant and brooding Kim, he added as a silent afterthought.

"They have my sympathies. She wasn't exactly in a reasonable state of mind when she ran off. Part of me feels I should be looking for her, but the rest of me knows that we can't let that orc even get one weapon to his boss. We have to keep after him."

Gil-galad turned from where he was quietly conversing with Celeborn, Glorfindel, Cirdan, Celebrimbor and the leader of the Naugrim on the other side of the fire. "No indeed. We cannot afford to let him get away. We take a short rest only and then we will seek him out. In the meantime Lord Glosur and his Naugrim will bear our messages updating the situation to Garee and Lord Tulkas. They had intended to offer their services to the Host as Smiths in any case. They part from us now and we head in the opposite direction, after the orc."

Jim stood up and handed his empty cup to the young Elf who had been standing patiently waiting for it. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get after him." He strode off to find his horse, determination bristling in the set of his body.

Eonwe felt torn. Part of him also wanted to rush off and find Kim, but he knew that there were much more important matters at stake than his personal relationships. He felt eyes upon him and looked up to meet Gil-galad's steady gaze. There was nothing but sympathy in the High King's eyes, but nothing further was said. Their path was obvious and laid out before them. The Maia sighed and went to find his own mount, followed by Olorin. Moments later Glorfindel was ordering the breaking of the makeshift camp and the group were preparing to ride.

However, just as Eonwe and Olorin were about to mount their horses, Celeborn approached them on his large white stallion. He reined in and sat quietly for a moment, as if he had some burdensome problem weighing on his mind and was considering whether he should say anything.

Eonwe mounted his horse. He looked quizzically at the silver Elf Lord and decided to give him a little help. "Something on your mind Lord Celeborn?"

Celeborn hesitated slightly while Olorin drew his horse closer and listened with interest.

The silver-haired Elf Lord stared at the Maia for a moment and then looked over at Olorin. "By some chance is the name A-lann familiar to either of you?"

Eonwe and Olorin exchanged a swift look and a small crease appeared between Eonwe's finely shaped brows. "I am not sure..." He began, but Olorin interrupted him with a small gesture.

"Do you mean Alan rather than A-lann?" He asked sharply. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind the face of the policeman Alun Davies, who had insisted on Kim going out with Gary and another policeman, Jim, to the scene of the original crime in the Forest of Dean, sprang to the surface.

Celeborn nodded. "It _is_possible that may have been what my lady wife meant. The vision was not entirely clear to her."

Eonwe's bright gaze held him fast. "Lady Artanis...Galadriel has seen something?"

A small, grim smile hovered around Celeborn's mouth. "She does possess some measure of foresight." He said lightly. "She has sensed that another mortal from your time is here in Middle Earth and the name that came to her during the vision was A-lann. Is it possible that one more of you came through this portal in time? Perhaps without your knowledge. Someone who followed you?"

Olorin frowned. "I somehow doubt it. There was a rather nasty earthquake and a series of smaller aftershocks just as we were searching the area for evidence. We ended up on the wrong side of a very large chasm that opened up which is why _we_ are here.. I can't see how one person without equipment would have managed to cross it."

"Yeah." Jim agreed immediately. "When we crossed over it was as though our world was on one side and this world was on the other, but I suppose once the earth had calmed down, it's possible that a smaller gap might have closed up." He shrugged. "I don't know much about geology, but then we aren't talking about straightforward earth movement here are we?"

Eonwe was silent, but his dark blue eyes had suddenly taken on a dull silver cast to them. For those familiar with the Maia this was a usual event, since it meant that the Maia in question was conversing with his Lord, but in this case the conversation was between Eonwe and Lady Varda Elentari.

_Hear me Eonwe. What Artanis daughter of Arafinwe has seen is the truth. There is indeed another mortal come to this Age from his own. This was mine and Lady Vaire's doing. We felt that at least one worry should be removed from you and had intended to try and send Kim and your unborn child back to her own time and thence to safety. We managed to create another temporary portal near the first one so that we could achieve this and we influenced matters so that she came into the hands of Maedhros and his brother Maglor. It was intended for them to take her to the point where the original portal emerged, where you all came through. However somehow events were overtaken by Sauron. He sensed the portal we created and used it to bring a man through from their time instead. Someone Kim would trust implicitly. He is a policeman, like young Jim, but older and more influential and Sauron seeks to use him for his own ends. Even now he rides to meet with Maedhros and his party. We believe that his task is to convince Kim and the Feanorians that he should take Kim home, but instead will deliver her to Sauron himself at Thangorodrim._

"Alun Davies." There was a faintly bitter note to Eonwe's voice when his eyes cleared and he finally spoke.

Celeborn didn't know whether to feel comforted by the fact that Eonwe seemed to know who he was referring to or not. "You _do_ know someone with that name?"

Eonwe nodded and beckoned to Jim who edged his horse over to where Eonwe was. "What's up Boss?"

"Strange you should say that." Said Eonwe dryly. "It seems your real boss, Inspector Davies, is here. "

The expression on Jim's face was comical to say the least. "The Inspector? Here? You mean_her_e here? As in Middle Earth here?"

Eonwe nodded and Olorin bit back a chuckle at the sudden dismay in Jim's face.

"Oh crap, and me looking like something from the Pirates of Penzance. But... what on earth is he _doing_ here? How did he get here?" Confusion replaced the dismay in the young man's face.

"As to the _how_ he got here, he had a little help from some powerful beings. With regard to the why, well it would seem that he has fallen in with thieves for the moment." Eonwe said as lightly as he could manage. "Apparently he is working for the other side."

"_What?_ No. I don't believe it. The Gaffer's a good bloke, one of the best, especially when you consider just how bent some of the more senior officers are." Jim looked utterly shocked and a little angry at what was being suggested.

Celeborn looked from one to the other and was a bit horrified to see a highly emotional scene clearly brewing from the expression on the young man's face. He decided to take the subject to a more pressing matter, hoping that the change of topic would divert any kind of incoming outburst.

He inclined his head in a bow and placed a hand over his heart. "My apologies, I think I may have chosen to speak of this at an inopportune time. Under the circumstances, perhaps it would be better to talk of this later. The remaining weapon is still on its way to the enemy and the longer we tarry, the further away and closer to his goal the orc gets."

"I agree." Olorin added his support to Celeborn's attempt to defuse a potentially difficult situation. "We can do _nothing _about this until we have the last weapon safely in our hands. Let's see to that and then we can discuss the matter of Inspector Davies. I'm sure that Lord Gil-galad will want to know of this development in any case, since I take it you haven't mentioned this to him yet?" He cocked an eyebrow at Celeborn who shook his head..

Eonwe glanced at Jim who finally gave a brief nod, but the anger, dissatisfaction and confusion in his face did not lessen. Eonwe resolved to try to have a conversation with the young mortal as they rode. They spurred their horses to catch up with the rest of the battle group who were already at least a quarter of a mile ahead of them.

Inside, however, Eonwe felt more wretched by the minute and his concern was shared by Gary through their link. The discovery that Alun Davies had been brought here by Sauron was a heavy blow indeed. If Davies had been turned to the other side and met up with Kim, she wouldn't realise it. Knowing her, she would automatically trust him and insist on going with him if he suggested it instead of heading to where the Host were camped. If that happened then they would bypass Gary and Tulkas completely and no doubt head north.

His heart sank with each passing mile that their group put between where they had left Kim and where they were headed to. All he could do was hope that Maedhros and his brother had not turned so far inward with their private war over their father's benighted creation that they could not sense any evil that might reside in the new arrival.

He would just have to trust to hope. As slight as that hope might turn out to be.

ooOoo

The only way Kim could tell that they were approaching their destination was because Maedhros had slowed their pace to a walk.

Elrond turned his head and grinned at her. "Now you will see a sight. The massed armies of the Valar, although we will pass through the minor encampments first." He pointed with a gloved hand at some tents now visible through the trees and bushes. "See? Those are some of the camps of the Houses of the Edain who have chosen to serve. This is the House of Beor who gave their loyalty to the house of Finarfin in the form of Lord Finrod Felagund and were the first of the houses of men to fight for the Eldar. Their numbers are few though and most remain in Estolad. They do not concern themselves with this war of the Valar. Further up you will see the House of Hador who were called Marach. They are fearsome warriors indeed and they are larger in number than the other two houses although they are now mere remnants of the original house. Their people are scattered and no longer a cohesive group. The other house of the Edain, the House of Haleth, eschew our wars and keep to themselves, even their language is different."

Kim glanced around with interest as they picked their way through the chaos that was the camp of the people Elrond was referring to. Here and there she spotted a woman, but for the most part they were all men and more than a few young boys. The women who were there were either quite young and bold looking or they were much older and work worn. She didn't need any explanations to tell her who did what. The women's clothes were patched and dirty.Most of the men wore chainmail armour with the emblem of their house on a surcoat that covered the mail. They _all_ looked to Kim as though they could use a bath with bleach and a brillo pad.

Some stopped what they were doing to watch Maedhros and his elves ride by, and there were more than a few admiring glances from the women to the tall beautiful Elves, but most glanced up without any undue interest. They had now fought with the Eldar long enough to not be amazed by them any more. However Kim herself drew more than a little interest from a group of warriors sitting around a campfire in the middle of the camp..

A tall fierce looking warrior with dirty blond hair hanging below his helm jumped up and caught at Elrond's bridle causing the horse to jerk its head away and whinny shrilly. The warrior grinned showing mouthful of discoloured and rotting teeth and Kim shrank back against Elrond in disgust.

"And who might _this_ lovely creature be?" The warrior raked Kim up and down with one lewd glance, amidst raucous laughter from his comrades. "Is this pretty burd for us? How thoughtful of you." Kim couldn't really understand what he was saying, but his meaning was very clear from the tone and the laughter.

Whatever else he intended to say or do was brought to an immediate halt by the fact that Maedhros had ridden over and imposed his impressive form on horseback between Elrond's horse and the warrior, who stepped back hastily to avoid being trodden on by the hooves of the massive chestnut horse that the Elf rode.

Maedhros smiled, and the man blanched, for the smile was not a pleasant one. "She is not for the likes of you Lord Godgifede. We are taking her to Lord Eonwe. She is under his protection." His tone left the warrior in no doubt of what would happen if he tried to get in the way.

Godgifede stepped back and bowed, although a dull anger lurked in the back of his eyes. "I meant no harm my Lord. I was merely jesting." He muttered.

Maedhros raised one delicately sculpted auburn eyebrow. "Indeed? I strongly suggest that you save your humour for those who appreciate it." His tone was silky but deadly.

Godgifede slunk back to the campfire and sat down, but his anger was plain to see, as was the matching anger of his associates.

Alun sat his horse and watched the scene play out. Of course these men had a completely different idea about women to the modern view, especially those women who followed armies. Kim was lucky that she hadn't ran into these guys instead of the Maedhros and his bunch because she was unlikely to be any better off had she run straight into Thangorodrim and Sauron's waiting arms. Still Maedhros was impressive and quite scary. A good person to have on your side rather than against you.

Maedhros nodded to Kim who bit her lip, shivered and clung closer to Elrond. He then rode to the head of his band and signed for them to resume their journey. Godgifede and his men muttered darkly among themselves as they watched the horses disappear through the trees towards the shining tents and banners of the Host of the Valar.

Kim kept her head down and her face buried in the folds of the Elrond's cloak as they passed through other groups of men just in case. He gently placed his hand comfortingly over hers as they rode. It wasn't until they came to the outskirts of the first of the camps of the Eldar that she ventured a quick peek. She gasped in admiration as they rode through the first of the brightly coloured tents and saw the tall shining, golden-haired Vanyarin warriors in their bright mail with keen swords and spears. They reminded her of Melannen and the young blond warrior who had been with Gil-galad and the others a few days ago.

In turn the tall warriors greeted Maedhros and his warriors with a certain wariness, but when they saw Kim staring around her in round-eyed amazement some laughed and bowed to her with their right hand over their hearts. She blushed and smiled at them and they laughed even more, the silvery sound rippling from one to the other.

But it was as they approached the silken tents of the Commanders that amazement and wonderment took Kim's speech away.

Compared to the virtual dirt and chaos of the tents of the Men, all here was shining cleanliness and order. Even as a battle camp it was stunning in its gold and silver glory. An elf with masses of wavy golden hair tumbled loose and unbound around his shoulders and hanging almost to his waist sat on a chair outside one of the tents honing the edge of his huge sword on a whetstone. He looked up in curiosity, flicked a thick hank of hair behind one ear and smiled at Kim. Beside him a regally beautiful elf with masses of equally golden hair confined on each side with small braids woven through with a simple silver ribbon sat with a goblet in one hand and his lean muscular legs crossed nonchalantly on a another chair.He flipped off a salute at Maedhros who grinned ferally and returned it with an equally flippant salute of his own.

Dark and golden haired elven warriors went about their business with nothing more than a quick salute to the newcomers. Alun noticed though that some of them looked at them with thinly veiled hostility in their eyes and he wondered at it. Apparently Maedhros and his warriors weren't _that_welcome among _all_ the tents of the Valar and Elven Commanders.

They finally stopped outside a very large tent which had an awning under which was set a table and a few chairs. Maps were scattered across the table along with a pile of leathern satchels which were clearly used for dispatches. Two tall strong looking Vanyarin warriors in bright golden mail with long shining spears stood on guard on either side of the entrance of the tent.

Maedhros alighted along with his brother Maglor and approached the tent. They spoke with the guard and another young warrior joined them and after a while hesitantly ducked his head into the tent. Everyone else stayed mounted and the horses shuffled restlessly as they could sense journey's end, some clear water and some hay awaiting them.

The young warrior finally emerged and nodded to Maedhros who turned without another world and strode up to where Kim sat behind Elrond. He offered her a hand.

"Come." He said abruptly. "Lord Eonwe waits inside for you." He looked over at Alun. "You had better come too. I imagine Lord Eonwe will want to know why you were in the company of the enemy."

Kim looked frantically at Elrond who smiled reassuringly. "Go with my uncle, Kim, Lord Eonwe is one of the Maiar and Commander of this army. He will not be unkind to you."

She sighed and slid down to the ground, clutching onto Maedhros as though he was a life preserver as they made their way between the tall watchful guards to the entrance of the tent.. Alun swung his leg over the horse and also jumped down, gently patting the mare's neck as he did so. He followed Maedhros and Kim and ignored the veiled curiosity of the Elves at this strangely dressed Edain in their midst.

The young warrior parted the tent flaps for them and they stepped inside.

ooOoo


	43. Interlude in Modern Earth

**HORATIO  
**O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!**  
HAMLET  
**And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.  
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,  
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.  
-  
**Excerpt from Act 1 Scene V Hamlet by William Shakespeare**

**Chapter 43 - Interlude in modern earth**

**Office of the General Officer Commanding 4 Division, Aldershot Garrison**

"Are you trying to tell me that the portal through to this other dimension has stabilised?" The General's grey eyebrows beetled together and his pale blue eyes had a steely sheen to them.

Dr Norman visibly tried to hide his excitement. His glasses had slid right down to the end of his nose and were precariously bobbing there, on the point of sliding right off. Unfortunately this had the effect of dragging the General's attention away from the matter at hand and onto the glasses. His frown grew deeper. He reached out with one finger and gently pushed them up to the bridge of the young scientist's nose.

Dr Norman blushed bright red. "Sorry." He mumbled apologetically. "I keep meaning to either buy a new pair or get these tightened at the opticians."

The General stared at him for a moment. "Off!" He barked and the young man jumped about three feet in the air looking wildly around him as though he was frantically wondering what he was supposed to get off.

"S...sir?" He asked.

"Not you!" The General said. "The daft dog. Mugger..._off_!"

The Cavalier King Charles spaniel had an utterly astounded look on its face as his beloved master ordered him off the easy chair. This was an _unheard_ of situation. Obviously a _terrible_mistake. He cast one hopeful look at the General which turned baleful as he was firmly pointed in the direction of his basket behind the General's desk. As a way of making up to the dog, the General threw a couple of treats into the basket as Mugger slunk into it.

"Good boy!" The General said.

"S...sir?" Dr Norman quaked.

"Not, you for god's sake. The bloody dog!" The General gestured impatiently to the now empty chair. "Sit down." He sighed as Dr Norman hesitated and looked over at the dog. This was obviously going to take a while.

Enlightenment flooded into Dr Norman's face as he realised that the dog had been chased off the chair so that _he_ could sit down. "Oh, of course! Sorry." He mumbled and gingerly sat on the very edge of the chair. Unfortunately time and wear had caused the main part of the seat and the cushion to sag away from the frame considerably, so the balancing act could only last for so long before his bottom slid into the well of the chair.

The General watched calmly while the scientist struggled to seat himself comfortably. Once he had, the General leaned against his desk rather than sat down on the other chair which he normally occupied. As a senior Staff Officer in the British Army he was _more_ than well aware of keeping the upper hand and position of authority in any conversation and by standing up while his victim was sitting, he maintained that with ease.

"What's your first name?" He asked abruptly.

If Dr Norman was surprised by the question he didn't show it. "Robert sir, but my friends call me Rob." He beamed at the General whose lips twitched as if he was going to crack a smile any second.

"I'll call you Rob if that's all right with you." He said smoothly.

There was a knock at the door before Rob could nod his assent and a young soldier came in with a tray with some cups, a teapot and a plate of biscuits on it.

The General pointed at a small table. "On there if you please." The soldier put the tray down and stood to attention. "Thank you. Dismissed!"

"Well Rob." He began to pour out two cups of tea as the young soldier quietly closed the door behind him. "As you probably know, in addition to our three soldiers and a constable, the list of missing in action now includes a very senior police officer. Apparently kidnapped from his car as it stood right outside his home. Needless to say his wife is hysterical and his children are devastated and questions are now being asked by the PM himself who wants to be _personally_ briefed on _all_ aspects of the case." He handed Rob a cup. "So you can imagine that the idea that there might be a way for us to lose yet more security forces personnel and perhaps a slack handful of assorted civilians to the other side is not exactly filling me with enthusiasm."

The cup rattled on the saucer and the only way Rob could make it stop was by holding them together in a death grip. Some of the tea sloshed over the side and spattered lightly onto the chintzy cloth of the chair cover. His excited smile had frozen on his face somewhat. "Yes sir...but..."

The General raised one bush grey eyebrow and Rob's gaze followed it as it climbed up his forehead. "Now you tell me that you think it might be a good idea for us to try to send someone _through_ this newly stabilised portal?"

The cup slid across the saucer but Rob managed to rescue it by grabbing the lip. That meant that the tea slopped onto his hand. He grimaced and gingerly transferred it to the small occasional table on which the photograph of Mrs General was placed strategically facing the General's desk. The General watched the delicate exercise with a 'what is he going to do next?' expression on his face. Luckily Rob completed the transfer without damaging or upsetting Mrs General in any way. One accomplished he leaned forward earnestly.

"Yes sir. I am aware that this is now a important matter at the highest level, but we are not suggesting that we send a person through..."

"I'm delighted to hear it." The General interrupted.

"...yet."

The General's face began to turn a shade which indicated an onset of apoplexy. "Yet?" His massive eyebrows went so high on his forehead they practically took off. A sudden vision of two jet propelled grey eyebrows flying around the room assailed Rob and he squeezed out a nervous giggle but clawed it back before it had a chance to develop into hysteria.

"No sir. What we are proposing is to send a probe through with a camera to spy out the lay of the land so to speak."

The high colour in the General's face began to fade. "For what purpose? We know full well that our people are on the other side there...wherever _there_ is. I doubt very much they're sitting there on their arses just on the other side of the damn portal waiting for us to pop through and say hello. Anyway, it's not the getting through that's the problem is it? It's the coming back."

"Ah!" Rob sat on the front of his chair. "Yes, but the dimensions and the nature of the portal has changed. According to our instruments which are constantly monitoring changes, it has become more stable. We gave it a week after the Inspector disappeared to make sure that it wasn't just a temporary stabilisation, but we are sure now."

"You think that the Inspector's disappearance is somehow linked with the portal stabilising?"

Rob shook his head. "I...we don't know. To our knowledge Inspector Davies was nowhere near the portal physically when he disappeared. I mean...nobody actually _saw_ him and he would have been picked up on our recordings if he had passed through physically or been carried through. However the fact remains that the portal began to stabilise at the _same time_ he disappeared and has remained stable ever since."

"Almost as though his disappearance had triggered it off." The General finished.

Rob nodded. "Yes sir."

"And you want to send a probe through to see what the score is on the other side and then bring it back to to make sure it survives the return journey."

"Yes sir." Rob leaned further forward, eagerness flowing from every pore. "The probe will send us live pictures and invaluable data back so we can see what it's like on the other side and even whether the air is healthy or whether the temperature is cold or hot."

The General finally sat down on the other chair. "All right. So what kind of range does this probe have? Are we talking a few feet or further?"

"It has a range of twenty five metres sir. Not a large range by any means but large enough that we could get a good idea of what kind of place they are in, but more importantly, it might be possible send something called a UAV through."

"Unmanned aerial vehicle." The General whispered to himself. "Of _course_!"

Rob grinned. "Yes sir. We have some developed for reconnaissance purposes. They're fitted with remote sensor devices capable of accurately picking up a signal over very long distances."

The General looked at him. "I think I know where you are going with this." He said softly. "You think that we can probably pinpoint where our people our located by a certain something that Chief Knowles is carrying from his special forces service. You do realise that this is highly classified information don't you?"

"Yes I do sir." Rob's face grew serious. "I worked on the development of the chip General. My clearance is up to UK Eyes Only. Sergeant Major Knowles was one member of a pilot programme for some technology to find key operatives missing in action behind enemy lines. He trialled the chip in Afghanistan after its insertion at Porton Down."

The General stood up and paced restlessly around the office. He finally came to a halt by the large picture windows which led out onto the balcony.

"The chip wasn't removed when he returned from Afghanistan because it was considered dangerous to do so in his case. He suffered an injury which required invasive surgery and which meant that the chip moved position. It now lies far too close to one of his major arteries. If the surgeons cut into him to remove it he would probably die." Rob explained.

The General nodded. "Yes, I saw the file on him when he disappeared through that damn portal. Could it have been deactivated?"

"Only by removal and destroying it."

"Hmm. I see. A somewhat fortuitous situation considering the predicament our people are in over in that other timeline." He turned to Rob. "Is there any chance at all that by sending this thing through, providing it's safe of course, we interfere with their futures and by doing so, our own?"

Rob shook his head. "I very much doubt that it has or will."

"How can you be so sure?" The General fiddled with his wife's photograph on the occasional table.

Rob stood up and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Because sir...they have had plenty of time to influence theirs and subsequently our future and nothing has happened to change anything. If it had, neither of us would probably be standing here. And if what I suspect is true sir, then the history we are talking about is so far back, it actually pre-dates the Ice Age, Dinosaurs and anything else we have managed to learn about the past. It's my belief that they are back in a civilisation that goes back to the _real_ dawn of time. A civilisation that was destroyed by some catastrophe large enough to redesign the face of the planet and which killed off the original inhabitants."

The General felt the hairs stand up on the back of his head as Rob spoke. "You're saying that the history they are now in is actually a totally different one to ours, but just on the same planet."

Rob smiled. "Yes. The various myths we hear aren't always fairy tales General. They sometimes have more than a grain of truth in them. Elves, fairies, wizards, dragons, monsters. Where do they come from if it isn't from a deep ingrained primeval consciousness? Or are they tales to frighten children? They're certainly considered to be that today, but the people way back in time weren't children. They were certainly primitive, but not children. Yet the tales have been handed down and I believe have some basis in reality." He stood up and moved closer to the window. "What if... what if J R R Tolkien's tales _weren't_ just tales? What if they were a history instead? A history which pre-dates ours by millions of years."

The General gasped and turned to face him. "My god, you've seen something!"

Rob nodded a little shamefaced. "We sent a probe halfway through, but had to pull it back when the military liaison officer hit the roof and demanded that we get permission. However, before we pulled it back it took some pictures." He handed the General a sealed buff envelope marked Top Secret which he had taken out of the locked briefcase he carried.

The General reached out and took the envelope with a trembling hand. He carefully undid the seal on the envelope and slid out four flimsy sheets. He turned them over carefully and studied the first one. Rob watched the colour die out of his face and saw him grope for his glasses in his top pocket. He put them on, but the picture still showed exactly what he thought he had seen without the glasses.

Staring back at the camera was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his entire life. Very tall he was, that was evident even from the grainy print. He had to be approaching seven foot tall at least. His face was slender and framed with a mass of pale blond or silver hair. The sides of his hair were braided and revealed the delicate leaf shape of his ears. He was dressed in bright chain mail armour and the expression on his face and in his bright intelligent eyes was lively curiosity. In the second picture he was reaching out for the probe with one slender, finely shaped hand. The other clutched a lethal looking spear with a bright shining tip.

"_Dear god in heaven._" The General whispered and the pictures fluttered heedlessly to the ground.

ooOoo


	44. Apocalypse not now, but shortly

**Glory:** "I am a god."  
**Spike: **"The god of what? Bad home perms?"  
**Glory:** "Shut up! I command you: Shut up!"  
**Spike: **"Yeah, okay. Sorry. But I just had no idea that gods were such prancing lightweights.  
Mark my words: the Slayer is going to kick your skanky, lopsided ass back to whatever  
place would take a cheap, whorish, fashion-victim, ex-god like you."  
(she power-kicks him across the room, through the wall... and out of his chains)  
**Spike:** (spitting up more blood) "Good plan, Spike."  
**-  
Buffy the Vampire Killer, Season 5, Episode 18 "Intervention"**

**Chapter 44 – ****Apocalypse not now but shortly  
**

**Interlude in the Halls of Waiting**

Namo, Lord of Mandos, sat back from the ornate chess table and rested his hands on the carved ebony arms of his chair. He looked thoughtful and perhaps a little sad even.

Chief Knowles stared at the chessboard. His primary player, the orc Thadak, was on the run pursued by the delicately carved white Knight piece which stood for Eonwe and the forces of High King Ereinion Gil-galad. Namo's white Queen represented by Kim Freeman stood at the last point of the board, almost poised for flight back to her own time, but beside her, casting doubt on the success of her flight stood a pawn in the form of Alun Davies, flanked by a black Knight; Sauron. Time and events alone would tell whether the pawn would support the Knight or be absorbed into the forces of good. His actions and words now would choose which he was to be for him, yet he was surrounded by the forces of good in the camp of the Host of the Valar and in the presence of Tulkas Astalde.

Yet crouched at some neutral point and still in the background sat a new, albeit shadowy, set of players on the board. They were not evil by any means, but potentially dangerous for all that. While the forces of Melkor stood for evil and the others stood for good, these stood somewhere in the middle. Namo and the rest of the Valar could clearly see that their intentions were good, but also that their intervention could presage events which, once set in motion, would be well nigh impossible to stop.

Knowles reached out with a trembling hand towards his black Knight. He did not wish to play this piece, because once played, he had a feeling it would launch something that couldn't be prevented. Just as his fingertips touched the piece, he suddenly stopped and looked up into the dark eyes of his opponent and for a split second, he saw a pair of steely blue eyes with beetling grey eyebrows starting back at him. He froze in place. Those eyes were very familiar, in fact he had been on the receiving end of that terrifying stare a few times in his career.

"Dear God in heaven..." Chief said before he could stop himself.

Namo smiled. "Not exactly. But not far off in your world of the military I suspect." His eyes had returned to their normal impenetrable black, but with a twinkle deep within them.

The Chief had gone very pale. "I saw...I could have sworn I saw..." He stopped and looked intently at Namo. "It's time for me to go back isn't it?"

Namo nodded, a little sadly. "Indeed it is my friend. The scientists in your time are very clever. They have been working diligently to discover the nature of the portal which still exists between your timeline and ours. Varda, my sweet wife and Sauron have all unwittingly helped them in this endeavour. Varda and Vaire created a second portal near the first for the purpose of sending Kim and her unborn child back to safety, this you know. You also know that Sauron used the second portal to bring Inspector Davies through as his pawn to persuade Kim and our Herald's child back to Thangorodrim. He knows this will bring Eonwe surging to meet him and it is not the right time. There are still too many enemies at his back and the orc Thadak needs to be stopped before he can reach his goal. For Eonwe to meet Melkor in battle now would mean defeat for the Host and the death of thousands."

"Don't tell me." Chief interrupted him. "The two portals have joined and stabilised, thereby allowing for the possibility that they could send troops through to mount a rescue party while our Scientist bods keep the portal open and stable."

Namo dimpled at him. "Very well, I _won't _tell you. However it is not exactly a rescue party that will make its way through the portal. They plan to send some of your modern technology through. Something called a UAV if I have the right of it."

The Chief looked suitably taken aback. "A UAV? I'm guessing for reconnaissance purposes?"

"You would think so wouldn't you?" Namo smiled. "However, as I understand it, this particular device has something called a remote sensor on it..."

"For tracking key military personnel behind enemy lines." Chief finished for him. "Yeah, wrote the script, saw the movie, have the chip inserted in my physical body. Blah blah biddy blah... Oh!!!" A disquieting thought occurred to him.

"Which body is currently occupied by one of our Maiar." Continued Namo smoothly. "Hence why you have to go back. Pulling Olorin from this Age back from your body through from an age which will not happen for millions of years could prove rather problematic. Besides which, we may have need of him for another very important task in the fairly near future." Name got up and poured two glasses of wine, one of which he handed to the Chief.

Chief Knowles slumped back in his seat. "How soon do I go back?"

"Soon, but not so soon that we cannot finish our game and have all the pieces in their correct positions before the crucial moment, including you!" Namo chuckled.

"I'll be sorry to leave." Chief said sadly. "I've really enjoyed my time here."

Namo's expression softened. "As I have enjoyed having you here; more than I thought I would. You have been one of the least troublesome of my guests here for certain. When you finally return here at the end of your time, I may just keep you here instead of allowing you to pass beyond the Circles of Arda."

"Are you allowed to do that?" Chief grinned at him. "Won't Eru object to having one of his souls hijacked for the pleasure of a Valar?"

"Perhaps I know a little something that no one else other than Eru Iluvator knows?" Namo hinted mysteriously. "And no, I am not going to enlighten you." He laughed before Chief could ask the questions that were written all over his face.

ooOoo

**The Residence of the General Officer Commanding, Aldershot, 4am present day**

He woke up gasping for air and thrashing around. The quilt had somehow wound itself around his waist and lower legs, so his efforts at jumping out of bed were a little hampered. He fell heavily to his knees and groaned as the pain from landing jarred right up into his hip joints. "Bloody Nora." He fumed.

A light switched on and he heard the bedsprings creak softly as his wife got out of the other side of the bed. Her anxious face hovered above his. "What is it darling? Did you have one of your bad dreams again?" Her tone was soothing, but not so soothing as to be irritating. She held out her hand and he managed to stand using her and the chair beside the bed as leverage.

He shook his head and grimaced as he took his weight on his sore knees. "Not the usual my dear. Totally different sort of dream. Not even sure it _was_ one." He sat down heavily in the chair and his wife poured him a drink of water from the carafe on the bedside table. He drank thirstily and sat back with a ragged sigh.

"All this business with those four young people disappearing and now another one is just getting to me." The General tried for a reassuring smile at his worried wife, who looked rather sceptical and not at all reassured.

She sat down in the other chair. "Would it help if you talked about your dream? I know that talking about that business with the disappearances is not allowed, with it being classified and all."

"I was in the Forest of Dean near where Inspector Davies lives. I think I was there to tell his family something really important, but I can't quite recall what it was. In the dream I kept knocking at all the wrong doors even though I kept walking up the right path." He said quietly. There was a crease between his massive eyebrows, as if remembering was far too difficult. "Then I was wandering in some dark place, but not alone. There seemed to be this...this creature in black robes walking with me or keeping pace with me, not sure which. We walked down what seemed like never-ending passages all with closed doors either side and I could hear things behind me, but something kept telling me not to look back."

"Other human beings?" Asked his wife quietly. "Or creatures like the one walking with you?"

He shook his head again. "Neither. I'm not sure. I don't think so. It was as if someone was trying to show me something, but that someone else was trying to stop them from doing so. I think I was being driven somewhere; told not to open doors which might lead somewhere else. The passage we were walking down seemed to stretch longer the more steps I took. I know whatever was walking with me did not want me to reach the end."

"What was at the end? Do you remember?" Privately his wife was a little appalled that he remembered such a threatening dream with such clarity. Usually very bad dreams that weren't related to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder became fuzzy in the cold light of wakefulness.

"A door." He said quietly. "There was a large carved door at the end. Just before I reached it..." He stopped dead and sat upright. "Telephone." He said.

His wife looked puzzled. "I can't hear anything."

"No..no...I_need_ the telephone." He looked around wildly as if he expected the telephone to materialise in front of him by wishing alone. His wife sighed and went around to her side of the bed where the cordless telephone lived. She handed it to him and sat down.

The General thought for a moment, then he punched a number into the phone and fidgeted impatiently while the telephone on the other side rang. After a few minutes someone answered in a very sleepy tone of voice.

The General came straight to the point. "Commander Strickland? Sorry to disturb you sir, this is Lieutenant General Sheldon from 4 Division in Aldershot. Yes I _do_ realise what time it is but this is directly related to the safety of Inspector Davies' family. Yes. I have reason to believe that they may be in imminent danger."

The General's wife could hear the voice on the other end of the phone raised slightly in question.

"Commander Strickland, we can stand here all night discussing the whys and wherefores, in the meantime, how are you going to feel if the Inspector's wife and children disappear the same way he did? Without explanation? I know I am asking you to take a lot on faith and if I am wrong I will be the first to be relieved, believe me. In the meantime are you going to send some police around to his house or shall I send an instruction to the SAS at Hereford?" The General sounded exasperated to say the least. "Thank you Commander, I sincerely hope I am mistaken as well and Commander... one last thing. Make sure that the team that goes in are armed."

ooOoo

**The Residence of the General Officer Commanding, Aldershot, 11 am, present day**

Commander Strickland was a rather pleasant looking man in his early forties. He sat down in the chair that the General offered him and accepted Mrs General's offer of a nice cup of tea gratefully. Once she had left the room to see to the tea, he leaned forward and his expression was grim.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"I take it they are all safe and well." The General raised an eyebrow.

Strickland nodded. "Safe and well, but if we had delayed, the situation may have been rather different. When our team got there, Mrs Davies and her children were already being taken out of the house. None too gently it has to be said."

"By whom?"

"I would have thought you could have told me that." Strickland said dryly. "By things...things the like of which I have never seen before, however the officer in charge of the Special Forces team who you were kind enough to send as backup for us didn't seem to be terribly surprised to see them."

A vision flashed up in front of the General of the one body they had managed to recover from the bottom of a deep ravine which had opened up when the earthquake had happened and which was currently in deep freeze down at Port down. He nodded. "No, I don't imagine they were."

"Anything you want to tell me? After all this involves my police force as much as it involves the military." Strickland sounded annoyed.

"Yes it does. Obviously some things which were of strategic military importance had been kept from you because they were considered to be 'Need to know', but in the light of subsequent events, little can be gained from not disclosing _everything _to the police. I obtained clearance for you to know _all_ the details as soon as I put the phone down on you earlier this morning." He handed Strickland a slim buff folder which held some reports and some autopsy photographs.

Strickland took them from him and started to peruse the file. General Sheldon watched the expression on his face change from annoyed, through disbelieving and then to astonishment. He finally looked up at the General. "Dear god. This is all for real?"

"Not only for real, but I can arrange for you to see the original body if you wish. It's being held for medical investigation by the assigned HM Coroner for Southampton and the New Forest, after which it will be turned over to our people at Porton Down for further tests, probably including dissection. However I'm guessing from the expression on your face that there are more bodies for that purpose from last night's little sortie."

Strickland nodded with a grimace. "There were six of them. Armed with primitive, but very effective weapons. More than capable of overcoming and kidnapping one woman and two teenagers, although the young lad, Davies' young son, gave more than a good account of himself trying to protect his mother and sister. The dog also had a go a well, but took a nasty slash from one of those swords they were carrying. We found him under the bushes in the garden."

"Dead?" The General hated the idea of animals being hurt. He stroked Mugger who was curled in his lap and the little dog sighed blissfully at the unexpected caress.

"Not far off it, nearly bled to death from the wound, but we found him in time and took him to the nearest vet. He should recover."

"How about the lad?"

Strickland smiled at Mrs General as she came in and handed them both a mug of hot sweet tea. "Bless you Mrs General, that's just the ticket after the night I've just had."

As soon as she had left the room again, Strickland bent forward. "The lad is fine, took a nasty knock on the head, but no wounds. Mrs Davies was roughed up and the girl was terrified. There were distinct signs that those...things had tried to interfere with her. " Disgust filled his voice. "That was apparently when the lad broke free and fought back. Silly of him really, it could have meant the death of them all."

The General shook his head. "No. Whoever it was that ordered this needed them all to be alive. Was there anyone else with the creatures?"

Strickland looked at him strangely. "Well that's the odd thing. There _was_ something or someone else. When the police surrounded the house one of the officers saw what he described as a tall figure in long black robes inside. We're not sure if it was male or female, but we assume that it was male. He seemed to be directing the kidnapping. The officer was well out of sight, but he swears that the creature looked straight at him and that he had glowing red eyes. He said that he felt nauseous and dizzy when the robed man looked at him and described it as like being under some kind of spell. It was at that point that your Special Forces lot joined in. I would put faith in our special weapons and tactics guys any day of the week, but on their own they would have been hard put to manage without the soldiers, so thank you for that. Now what _I _want to know is, how did you know about the kidnapping attempt and how did you know about the robed figure?"

The General smiled thinly. "I _will_ tell you, but first, tell me whether you managed to capture the man in black robes?"

ooOoo

**Sauron's audience chamber in Thangorodrim, North Beleriand**

"Report."

The tall robed Maia felt a frisson of fear. His report was not going to be a successful one and Sauron was not known for his sweetness and light when thwarted. He bowed. "We were unsuccessful my Lord." He said softly. "We had the three mortals but others, with weapons, were waiting for us outside. They killed the orcs, but their weapons were not effective against me once I had un-fleshed myself."

Sauron's calmness was unnerving. "I see." He immediately dismissed the Maia who left the chamber with alacrity, relief filling his entire being at his escape from the wrath of Gorthaur the Cruel.

However, in spite of his outwardly calm demeanour Sauron _was_ seething inside. All of his careful plans were beginning to unravel. His instincts had indeed been to lash out at the unfortunate Maia, but all that would have done would have been to alert Morgoth of his actions and that would not have been a good idea at all.

Sauron went to the window of his chambers and looked out over the silent, dark land. Just south of Thangorodrim and Angband in the realm of Dor Daedeloth stood the plain of Anfauglith, once a green plain with rich grass reaching from Hithlum and the Ered Wethrin in the west to the Ered Luin in the east, and rising into highlands of Dorthonion in the south. But the plain was laid waste by rivers of flame and poisonous gases that issued forth from Angband and renamed Anfauglith which means "Gasping Dust". Sauron knew that it was on this plain that Eonwe, Captain of the Host would bring war to their very doorstep.

Morgoth's army was great it was true. Large parties of orcs with Balrog Captains issued from secret entrances to Angband every day with the order to harry the Host as much as possible in order to delay their arrival and deplete their resources and manpower. However it was Sauron as first Lieutenant of Morgoth who heard the reports which spies and the Captains brought back to Angband and he knew that far from losing, Eonwe and his army gained in strength. It was from this knowledge that Sauron made his plans to bring Eonwe and the Host of the Valar to him while Morgoth's armies were at full strength.

Granted there were things inside Angband, fearsome things which had not yet seen light of day and would perhaps drive the final battle in their favour, but Sauron did not like to rely on such odds. If he had been successful at drawing Eonwe out earlier, then his Host could have been caught in a pincer between orc troops behind him and the fearsome dragons in front of him. Defeat would have been sweet and inevitable. He lusted at the mere thought of having Eonwe, Herald of Manwe chained and helpless before him. Now, the possibility of having the delight of torturing his fellow Maia was receding rapidly into the distance.

He pursed his lips and tapped his teeth with his index finger. Yet _all_ was not lost. There was no way for the mortal Davies to know that they did _not _have his family, although he _was_ perturbed to think that the mortals were so well informed that they knew about the small force he had sent to kidnap the Davies family. Sauron knew that his orcs would have no chance of escape if the mortals used their weaponry, but he had _not_ expected that the mortals would be watching the Davies home so diligently. Apparently mortals in future timelines were much better at strategy and organisation than they were in the current Age, something to be remembered for the future.

He went to the large carved table and began to scratch out some orders on a parchment. Once it was done, he sealed it with his ring and sent for a courier. Not an orc this time, but one of the many men of the East who served in Angband and who could pass as an innocent mortal were he to be captured. The courier left within the hour bound for the camp of the Maia who waited just out of range of the camp of Eonwe.

ooOoo


	45. Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

"Those magnificent men in their flying machines

they go up tiddly up up,they go down tiddly down down.

Up, down, flying around,

looping the loop and defying the ground.

They are incredibly keen,

those magnificent men in their flying machines."

'**Those Magnificent Men in their Flying ****Machines**'

_**lyrics and music by**_**_Ron Goodwin_**

**Chapter 45 - Is it a bird? Is it a plane?**

"What in the name of Eru _is_ that?" Erestor shaded his eyes against the burnished sun.

He and Celebrimbor, accompanied by one of the younger Naugrim who was riding pillion with him, were scouting ahead of the main party. Their quarry was not too far ahead of them and, as was usual in the middle of the day, was obviously looking for a cool dark place to hole up until nightfall. If they could locate his hiding place and ride back to the main party there would be time to catch him.

Personally Celebrimbor thought it would be best just to kill him and get the weapon back, but Eonwe wished him to be alive so that he could be questioned. The Maia wanted to know who was directing him and why, and who was he to argue with a Maia?

The Naugrim, whose name was Bausi, snorted. "My eyes are as keen as a hawk's and I tell you that it is naught but a leaf blowing high on the wind."

Celebrimbor's luminous grey eyes lit up with amusement and he rolled them heavenward. Erestor choked back a laugh. The trouble with Dwarves was that they were determined to be the best at everything and while they definitely were best at digging and delving in rock, their tracking abilities were poor to say the least. Much poorer than Elves.

However, on first sight, it was indeed true. The speck that had caught Erestor's attention was still quite far away and although vaguely bird-shaped, did not resemble any creature known to the elves. Or apparently the Dwarves. Against the sunlight shimmering on the mountainside it could have been anything. On the other hand if it were a leaf, then as they watched curiously and warily, said leaf was coming much closer, moving rather rapidly and with a distinct flight path.

Celebrimbor squinted. "That is _no_ leaf." He said firmly and turned his horse towards the only cover available in a large clump of bushes. Erestor followed without question.

They dismounted and sank down to their haunches as the strange 'leaf' drew closer and closer. Their Elven mounts did not need to be told to be silent. They stood quietly in the bushes with heads lowered.

The object was now _much_ closer and seemed to have a distinct destination in mind, namely where they were hiding. They could also now clearly see that it had a bird-like shape, but was not a living thing. Neither Celebrimbor nor Erestor sensed life within. The sun reflected off a dull whitish-grey surface and they could also hear a soft whirring sound which may have come from wings except that they could also see that the wings were not flapping or moving at all.

Had Celebrimbor and his companions been modern mortals, they would have easily recognised the shape that whirred softly towards them and then flew in a wide circle around the bushed area. To any modern mortal it would have looked exactly like a large, sophisticated model airplane, the kind that enthusiasts control with a remote control box. Only much, much larger.

Just like a model airplane, it also had antennae and their usage was similar to that of a model, except that in this instance it was not only controlled by experts in another timeline, but was also fairly unlimited in its range. Also unlike a model, this aircraft had special remote sensors inside it which fed information back to the computer that controlled it and translated that information into data and compiled images of the surrounding areas.

They were more commonly used for locating personnel and mapping purposes, but a fascinated General Sheldon and the senior military and police officers with him on the other side of the time rift could clearly see the images forming on the screen. Including heat signals belonging to three living humanoids.

Celebrimbor, Erestor and Bausi were the first people in Ennorath to be on television.

Bausi cowered between the two elves and flung his hood over his head. "Ai, ai! It is a device of the enemy!" He wailed. "We are too close to Thangorodrim. I _told _Glosur. _Far_ too close."

An irritated Celebrimbor kicked at Bausi's boot. "Hush." He whispered as sternly as he could. "We do not _know_ what it is. It might not be from the enemy. We must be silent and watch, not fall around in panic."

Bausi fell silent but both Elves could see that he was still trembling in abject fear.

To his horror Erestor felt something very akin to the terror of Bausi also rattling inside _him_. If he'd had a hood he would have flung it over his head and wailed alongside the Naugrim. The thing, whatever it was, _knew_ they were there. It kept flying round and around where they were hidden.

"I think it _knows_ we are here." He whispered to Celebrimbor, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice.

Celebrimbor narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, whereupon the flying object suddenly changed its trajectory and swooped straight for them. Bausi squawked in fresh terror and Celebrimbor threw himself flat, dragging the crouched figure of Erestor with him so that they were lying over the smaller dwarf.

Erestor could feel his heart thudding as the object whirred only a few feet over their prone bodies. Once it had swooped away again he cautiously sat half upright and saw to his own terror that it had merely turned in a tight arc and was swooping back to them. He froze in a half sitting position with his mouth open in shock and Celebrimbor grabbed the sleeve of his tunic and yanked him back down, just as it zoomed in towards them. It buzzed them again for a few seconds that felt more like hours, then it whirred away and continued its onward flight.

They lay as still as the dead until they could no longer hear the whirring noise then sat up slowly.

"Well…" Erestor got to his feet warily and brushed the dirt and dried twigs off his tunic and leggings with shaking hands. "That was…interesting. " He could hear the shaky sound of his voice and glanced up at the sky anxiously to make sure it was really gone.

Celebrimbor was already on his feet and staring into the wide blue horizon. He shook his head and then whistled softly. A noise that should have instantly called the horses to them, but no welcome sound of hooves followed. All was silence in the shimmering heat of midday.

"It is gone." He said grimly. "Device of the enemy or not, it has flown off in the direction of the main party. And our horses have taken off in fright as well." He sighed deeply. That meant following their tracks, which in turn meant valuable time wasted.

Erestor laughed, but it was a tremulous sound. "I am not sure that I blame them." He came over to stand beside Celebrimbor. "What do you think it was?"

The other elf shook his head slowly. "I have no idea, but I am not entirely sure it came from Thangorodrim." He turned to Erestor. "We have to find our horses and get back to Ereinion. We need to warn them although no doubt that thing will find them long before we do."

He bent down and gripped Bausi, who was still crouched in a heap and whose wailing was now a series of muffled groans, by his shoulder. "Bausi, get up now. It has gone and so have our horses. We need to get back to the main party and we will have to run until we locate the horses."

Bausi allowed himself to be persuaded to his feet. "Humph!" He said looking around him in typical Dwarven discontent. "I thought _Elven_ horses were well trained. I thought all you had to do was whistle and they came."

"Normally that is so." Celebrimbor responded calmly, not rising to the bait. "But they are like any other creature when faced with something out of the ordinary. They seek shelter when they are threatened. So now we must pick up their trail, recover them and get back to the main party."

Bausi's eyes gleamed in their deep-set sockets. "Well as for running, we dwarves run like the wind. But we are more, shall we say, _shorter_ distance runners you understand?" He hitched his long mail shirt up a little. "We are _much_ better at sprinting."

He found he was speaking to empty space. The two 'slowcoach' Elves had taken off already, running lightly at high speed leaving him dawdling behind in the bushes. He cast one terrified look around him, as though a million orcs and a billion strange flying objects were drawing in on him and after his blood, and plunged headlong through the bushes after Celebrimbor and Erestor leaving a clear flattened path behind him.

ooOoo

The strange flying object had not escaped Thadak's reasonably keen eyesight either. If Celebrimbor and the other two had been in any kind of position to notice, they would have seen him standing among the rocks on the lower slopes of the nearby small mountain range watching the flight of the UAV with both interest and fear.

His first thought was that it might have been one of the many wonders that had been brought into the world by the magicks of the Dark Lord and his servants. Thadak was not sure what actually lived in Angband, but he had heard _many _rumours. Still, this thing was very puzzling and did not seem like one of the dark fell works he was used to. Yet it displayed no interest in him, which would give credence to it being one of Morgoth's devices.

Was it perhaps searching for him? He had heard no word from Sauron for a few days now, since his encounter with Redhair in fact, and indeed was wondering even if it was _worth_ taking a risk bringing the weapon to him. After all he originally had many of the weapons. Sauron might indeed be angered with him once he knew there was only one left. Thadak was not the brightest spark in the grate, but he knew that he risked death merely because he had failed in the original endeavour.

He cursed the human female. She had put a spell on him. All he had been able to think about was her pale flesh against the golden skin of the god from the West she had lain with at that camp of the Elves. Now look, he had pursued her and almost met his death at the hands of Redhair and his accursed band of Elves.

The arrow wound in his shoulder twinged in sympathy. Deep down inside the wound he knew that the arrowhead and the jagged remainder of the shaft still lay. He had only snapped the protruding part of the shaft off during his first rest, he could not see to do anything else with it and he had no companions to aid him, not that any other of his kind would have. The jagged shaft and the arrowhead had sunk deeper into the flesh and dark infected flesh had almost covered it over.

Deep inside he could feel the flesh putrefying around the foreign object. Orcs were built for hardiness and they could withstand most injuries and recover because their constitution was bred to be strong. This, however, was something different. The poisons from the putrefaction were beginning to filter into his bloodstream and although he had both fed and drank since the injury he still felt very lightheaded and it was getting worse as the hours dragged on.

He rubbed a hand across his eyes in order to clear his infection clouded vision, then sank down onto his haunches and watched as the strange object flew circles around a thick patch of bushes as if searching for something…or someone. It did not fly his way and he was too weary now to care whether it was looking for him, what with the cruel sun high in the sky and his poison ridden body. He turned away in disinterest as the object flew onwards and dragged the assault rifle behind him as he slunk towards the cool, shallow cave he had found and slumped down in a heap at the back of it.

Thadak was ill, although he did not realise it. Illness was not something which habitually happened to orcs. His kind certainly did not usually die from illness. They were either usually killed outright by the enemy or by the hand of his own kind, not from kindness it had to be said, but because a badly injured orc was of no use to them. A dead orc meant fresh meat for the others, especially since supplies were few while on the march.

However, before he sunk into unconsciousness something very strange happened. He was granted the clarity of a sudden vision of a young ellon being greeted by an older ellith and ellon in a small cottage. There was food on the table and a fire in the hearth and there was also laughter and song and love. Somewhere deep in his subconscious a racial memory of what he and the others had originally been still sparked within him.

His heavy eyelids fell closed, but as he drifted off to sleep tears of loss tracked down his leathery cheeks. He knew that he was now running from everyone, including his own kind, and he had nowhere left to go. The Elves would most certainly kill him on sight and only a painful death awaited him if he went to Thangorodrim.

Thadak was on his own.

ooOoo

_Ennorath_ [noun – Middle Earth

_Ellon_ [Sindarin – male elf, singular

_Ellith_ [Sindarin – female elf, singular


	46. Cocked, Locked and Ready to Rock Sir!

"**Military operational tactics (Snake model)**

**Infantry**:  
Snake smells them, leaves area.

**Airborne:**  
Lands on and kills the snake.  
**Armour:****  
**Runs over snake, laughs, and looks for more snakes.  
**Air Force:**  
Has GPS coordinates to snake. Can't find snake. Returns to base for refuel, crew rest and manicure.  
**US** **Ranger:**  
Plays with snake, then eats it.

**Field Artillery:****  
**Kills snake with massive Time On Target barrage with three Forward Artillery Brigades in support. Kills several hundred civilians as unavoidable collateral damage. Mission is  
considered a success and all participants (i.e., cooks, mechanics and clerks) are awarded Medals.

**Special Forces:****  
**Makes contact with snake, ignores all Ministry of Defence directives and Theatre Commander Rules of Engagement by building rapport with snake and winning its heart and mind. Trains it to kill other snakes. Files enormous travel settlement upon return.

**US Navy SEAL:****  
**Expends all ammunition and calls for naval gunfire support in failed attempt to kill snake. Snake bites SEAL and retreats to safety. Hollywood makes fantasy film in which SEALS  
kill fanatical extremist snakes.  
**Navy:****  
**Fires off 50 cruise missiles from various types of ships, kills snake and makes presentation to MOD Appropriations Committee on how Naval forcesare the most cost-effective means of anti-snake Force projection.**  
****Marine:****  
**Kills snake by accident while looking for souvenirs. Local civilians demand removal of all military forces from Area of Operations.  
**Marine Recon: ****  
**Follows snake, gets lost." **– Military Humour**

**Chapter 46 – Cocked, Locked and Ready to Rock Sir!**

**The Forest of Dean, site of the time portal**

At 0200 hours Zulu time only a few hours after a high powered meeting with the Prime Minister, the Home Secretary, the Police Commissioner and heads of the Armed Forces, Commander Strickland, senior officers from SAS in Credenhill and General Sheldon watched with more than a little trepidation as a small group of dark armed figures slipped silently through the shimmering rift between two distinct timelines without hesitation.

Not one of the men halted in front of it and looked questioningly at the array of brass ranged around, muffled to the eyeballs in parkas and heavy coats. Such was their professionalism that they went into the unknown and possible death with as little care as they would display going to Tesco's supermarket with their wives for the week's shopping.

Only one dark-clad man paused, the second to last man to go through before the troop commander. Sheldon shook his head and chuckled softly as Rob Norman shoved his spectacles back up his nose and poked his finger out experimentally through the shimmering field, much as the young archaeologist from Stargate the movie had done through the Stargate.

The same look of awe and fascination crossed his features as had crossed Dr Jackson's face. He was going as official scientific observer. His remit was to observe and record, but not get involved in any fire fights. The SAS troopers and their commander were not happy he was there because it meant babysitting him, but the powers that be had ruled that some official scientific record of the mission must be kept. Norman was the obvious choice. Besides which he had volunteered and practically pleaded on his hands and knees for the 'privilege'. The fact that he was a Tolkien geek and had painstakingly taught himself Sindarin and Quenya since he had read Lord of the Rings when he was fourteen clinched it. The soldiers needed someone who could speak the lingo reasonably well or at least make themselves understood should the need arise.

Sheldon's grey eyebrows beetled closer together and the troop commander hastily shoved Norman through the rift. Before he stepped through himself, he turned and saluted, then he too disappeared and all was silent in the forest clearing. The various people arraigned around the area looked at each other and then shivered, and it was not entirely due to the cold early morning air.

The freezing air puffed softly out of the General's Aide de Camp's lips and evaporated in wisps. "Do you wish to say anything further Sir?" He asked anxiously. He wasn't feeling too keen on waiting around. There was something about this place that totally creeped him out. He didn't envy the soldiers who had just gone through the portal and was baffled at the young scientist's muted excitement.

Sheldon's lips pursed together and he stared back at the shimmering area which was now once again swarming with military and government scientists all intent on their computers and myriad screens. He felt helpless. Put a gun in his hand and men to command and he knew where he was. This standing and waiting thing that he had to do since becoming a General frustrated the hell out of him.

"What more is there to say?" He said with a note of sadness in his voice. "I may have just sent a further six men to their deaths, but what else can I do? Something tells me that the only hope for Major Matthews and his little group is in me sending them. This business of those creatures and that dark thing trying to kidnap Mrs Davies and her children has unnerved me to say the least. They came through with such ease of passage." He said the last almost to himself and then shook his head again.

One of the senior officer representatives from Credenhill, the home of the SAS gripped him by the shoulder. "It's the only way James; they have strict orders to avoid trouble and the indigenous population. They are only there to track Chief Knowles who will hopefully be with Matthews and the others."

"I have faith in them and their ability to follow orders Richard. They are British Army soldiers after all. I expect nothing less than their best." Sheldon replied dourly. "It's the unknown quantities there that bother me and…" He glanced back at the portal which twinkled mockingly at him and jerked a thumb towards it. "…and that thing's stability. If it changes at all then I have lost a total of eleven people in a time that they have no knowledge of."

The other officer smiled sympathetically. "I do understand General. I take it you are accepting our hospitality in the Mess tonight?"

"Yes indeed." The General remembered his PR and managed a smile, but he failed to see how the other officer could even begin to understand the enormity of what had just happened. It was pointless saying anything further, since the man patently did _not _understand at all. "My Aide de Camp and myself have rooms there. Aldershot is a bit of a long haul to go tonight. Credenhill was much closer."

Richard laughed. "Excellent. Then have your driver follow mine. I have it on good authority that there will be hot tea and coffee and a good breakfast. If there are any developments you will be the first to hear."

Sheldon nodded bleakly and then looked around for his Aide de Camp who materialized by his side by magic.

"Car's this way sir." He said.

As the car drove away down the bumpy forest road Sheldon looked back and kept looking until the locked down site was just a mild glow through the trees.

A few more yards and then it was gone, masked by the trees and bushes of the Forest of Dean.

ooOoo

**Oiolosse, in the Halls of the Elder King, Aman**

In Oiolosse, Lord Manwe Sulimo and all of the Valar except for Namo who had yet to arrive sat silently and watched as one by one, the soldiers passed through into Middle Earth. A vision being permitted them by the works of Eru Iluvator. A worried crease sat between Manwe's blue eyes. Varda gently placed her hand over his but he managed only a bleak smile at her, a smile that strangely enough mirrored General Sheldon's. They shared exactly the same misgivings about the whole thing.

"Should we…" Orome started uncomfortably, then his voice trailed away. He wasn't entirely sure what they should do or say even. This had all gone far too far. The other Valar also shifted in their chairs equally uncomfortably.

The tall Maia who was standing in for Eonwe as Herald while he was in Arda as Captain of the Host stood aside respectfully as the huge richly carved wooden doors to Halls of the Valar swung open silently. All eyes turned to the serene form of Namo, Lord of Mandos as he gracefully strode into the halls followed by an equally calm Chief Knowles.

The Chief grinned unashamedly at Vaire and Varda as he passed them. They, in turn, inclined their heads and smiled back at him.

Namo stopped in front of Manwe's chair and bowed his head slightly to the Elder King. "My apologies for my tardiness my Lord." He said quietly. "May I also present Chief Knowles, the mortal whose fea I have had in my keeping for a while?"

Manwe stepped down from his dais and held his hand out to the bemused Chief. "Chief Knowles please be welcome. I must apologise for not meeting you sooner than this, but I seldom leave my halls."

The Chief smiled, clasped the Elder King's hand and shook it enthusiastically, totally taking Manwe by surprise. "No problem Lord Manwe, Lord Namo here already explained that to me. Very pleased to meet you I'm sure."

The Elder King sat back in his chair and gestured for Chief to sit on the small marble seat that the Maia brought for him. Namo took his seat with the rest of the Valar.

"I know that you have seen much of what has occurred during your stay in the Halls of Waiting through the auspices of our fellow Vala Namo, but obviously this new situation is a little alarming for us. The people from your time have sent more of your soldiers through the open portal. We are…I am…a little perturbed as to what this will mean and how it will affect Arda and the current difficulties there."

Knowles nodded somberly. Namo had shown him the UAV and then troops coming through. He could see why the decision had been made, but he could also see that this amount of modern expertise and weaponry may have an ill effect on the current war being waged on Morgoth.

He heaved a sigh. "I understand your misgivings. All I can tell you is that this decision wouldn't have been made lightly and it would have been made at the highest level. I think it's been triggered by Detective Chief Inspector Davies being kidnapped by that Sourplum guy…"

"Sauron." Irmo, Varda and Vaire corrected in chorus, and then blushed while the rest of the Valar laughed softly.

The Chief grinned. "Just checking." He said cheekily. "Anyway, I think that if he hadn't brought Davies through, they would have just left well alone and hoped for the best. Now you have what I believe are Special Forces troops through into your time. They are not just _any _soldiers. They are highly trained specialists and deadly in combat."

Manwe raised an eyebrow at his wife and then at Vaire.

"All right, all right." Varda said crossly. "That was _our_ fault really. We simply didn't realise that Sauron was powerful enough to detect the work of a Valar. We meant no harm. We just wanted Eonwe's wife and child to be safe."

It was Chief's eyebrows turn to lift. "Wife now is it?" He quipped. "That Herald chappie moves pretty quickly doesn't he? Doesn't let the grass grow under his feet once he gets the bit between his teeth."

More light laughter ripped around the room and the Maia standing in for Eonwe had a grin from ear to ear on his face.

"His fea is joined with that of the mortal woman Kim. She carries his child. They therefore belong together as man and wife." Manwe chided gently, but with a huge smile. "That is _all_ that is required among our kind. We do not have formal marriage or binding ceremonies among the Ainur, although they do among the Eldar of course. I understand that among modern mortals something even much more binding is necessary."

"I mean no offence my Lord." Chief offered sheepishly. "You just took me by surprise by calling Kim his wife."

Manwe shook his head. "It matters not and no offence was taken. Varda and Vaire merely tried to secure their safety. I just wish that we had _all_ been consulted in the matter. That will not happen again _will it_?" He cast a stern look at the two Valier, who both coloured and nodded their assent. "You must stay a while and take refreshment Chief. Tell us about these 'Special Forces' soldiers because we have no knowledge of them and we need that to make a decision as to whether we interfere officially."

The Chief was perplexed. "I thought I _had_ to go back because of the UAV and all. I have this thing called a computer chip…"

Manwe interrupted him with a smile before he rambled further. "We _are_ aware of this and we wish to know about this 'chip' also. There is time before you need to enter your body again. Time moves at a different rate here in Aman." He nodded at the Maia who brought a small table over to the Chief's seat, set it with food and drink and then went back to his position behind Manwe's chair.

The Chief shrugged and settled back. "You're the boss. What do you want to know?"

ooOoo

Kim stepped through the tent flap and smiled back tremulously at Maedhros who stepped in just behind her. He gave her a reassuring smile and she turned to face the two splendid figures in shining mail armour, one with a helm and the other without, standing behind a large table which was set with food.

Her eyes alighted on the roasted meat and the platter of fruit. Her stomach grumbled loudly.

The man wearing the helm reached up and lifted it from his head. "Hungry Sergeant Freeman?" There was laughter in his voice and if the truth were known, joy that he was seeing her again.

She looked up at him and started in astonishment. "Gary?"

The person who was currently holding the position of Captain of the Host of the Valar chuckled. "That would be 'sir' to you Sergeant." He said mildly and the huge man with him laughed and stepped forward. He bowed to the startled Kim.

"I am Tulkas Astalde, Miss Freeman. Welcome to the camp of Eonwe." He said smiling amiably. "And you obviously know this reprobate don't you?" He gestured to Gary.

Kim was speechless and could only nod stupidly. She allowed Tulkas to lift her hand and kiss the back with very old world courtesy. Alun Davies stood near the back of the tent and watched with narrowed eyes. He recognised Gary of course, but he wasn't entirely sure why he was masquerading as a Maia, let alone as the Captain of the Host of the Valar. Yet he could clearly see definite and distinct changes in the young officer. His hair was longer but he was also broader around the shoulder and, even though it was an impossibility, he was also much taller. And he glowed.

Maedhros looked from one to the other. All of them were speaking English and the few words and phrases he had picked up were not sufficient for him to translate adequately. Something was strangely amiss though, that much he could tell. He turned to Gary and bowed gracefully with his right hand on his heart. "Suilad, Hir nin…" He began

Gary nodded at Maedhros and smiled. "Suilad Lord Maedhros. Your report can wait, although I am sure it will make an interesting hearing. Perhaps you and you brother would join Lord Tulkas, Lady Kim, Mr Davies and myself for dinner a little later? You can give me your report then."

Maedhros was taken aback. He had _never_ been invited to dinner in Eonwe's tent before. That was usually restricted to senior commanders and the other Maiar. He flushed. "Of course, we would be honoured. However I must see to my people and ensure they are settled first."

"Of course." Gary nodded graciously. "We will see you later then, I will send a messenger to your camp area to fetch you….oh…and Maedhros…"

Maedhros had already bowed and turned to leave but he stopped and turned as Gary spoke his name.

"I would be very grateful if you would bring the two young Peredhel, Elros and Elrond with you. I would _very_ much like to make their acquaintance." Gary finished. There was a distinct twinkle in his eye.

It was on the tip of Maedhros' tongue to refuse. After all, had he not held out against Gil-galad meeting or taking the boys? However the Maia Eonwe was decidedly _not_ Ereinion Gil-galad. He was a member of the lower order of Ainur, a powerful Maia and the commander of a powerful army and in direct contact with those higher beings who had sent him. Even though Maedhros had the same contempt for the Valar as his father had, they were still the direct representatives of Eru and it was not wise to gainsay them, not with an army of thousands from the West on his doorstep.

He swallowed back his ire and the desire to say no and nodded mutely. "As you command my Lord." He said stiffly.

Gary stepped towards him and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Not a command Lord Maedhros." He said softly. "A request only. You may refuse if you wish."

Maedhros stared at the Maia and there was more than a hint of suspicion in his eyes, however to refuse after being asked so politely would have been churlish, so he merely nodded, swung on his heel and left the tent without so much as a 'by your leave' to anyone.

Tulkas laughed softly and shook his head at the Feanorian's veiled and stiff-necked insolence. "Ah, Eru save us from the blind pride of the young."

He took Kim by her shoulders and led her to one of the chairs. He settled her and then raised an eyebrow at Alun and Gary. "I think perhaps it is time for us all to have a little talk, don't you?"

Alun Davies came forward. "I was thinking pretty much the same thing." He said dryly. He held his hand out to Gary and nodded politely to Tulkas who smiled at him. "Major Matthews I presume?"

Gary laughed and shook hands with him. "Indeed it is Inspector Davies. I would love to say I am happy to see you and don't get me wrong, I _am_ happy, but I'm also a little concerned that you're here."

"Ah well, thereby hangs a tale. I have a few concerns of my own to discuss with you." Davies replied laconically.

"I'm sure you do." Gary sat down and gestured for Alun to sit also.

Tulkas took a chair beside Kim who was silent through the whole interchange between Gary and Maedhros and Gary and Alun; she was staring at Gary as if she had never seen him before. There were two high spots of colour on her cheeks and a gleam in her eye. He sighed to himself.

_That _look he recognised. He was possibly in big trouble.

ooOoo

_Zulu time_ – Is the military and aviation term for Coordinated Universal Time (UTC), -- which is a high-precision atomic time standard. UTC replaced Greenwich Mean Time on 1 January, 1972 as the basis for the main reference time scale or civil time in various regions around the world.


	47. A Bird in the Hand

"During exercises I was always intrigued to discover that large numbers of Marines used to queue up outside my helicopter, presumably hoping to be transported in my aircraft. I used fondly to imagine that they had instinctively recognised my talents as a pilot, until it was eventually revealed to me that the reason for my apparent popularity was that they thought my helicopter was better maintained than everyone else's!" **– HRH Prince Charles on Marine Commandos**

**Chapter 47 – A Bird in the Hand…**

**Somewhere in Beleriand…**

Eonwe was confused. He should have been delighted that Gary and Kim were united at long last. Instead all he felt was a deep ache in his heart, although he didn't envy Gary the ear-bending he was about to get from Kim. The only comfort the Herald could derive from the whole fiasco was from his link with his unborn daughter. It was the only thing in this whole dreadful mess that gave him any kind of hope.

Gil-galad's merry little band had been riding hell for leather on the heels of their scouts. They had looked for their return for the past hour at least and had seen no sign of them yet. The High King was worried and his counselors and commanders no less so. Eonwe was not so worried. He had sensed the two elves and the dwarf were certainly still alive but not their location. Something had obviously happened to delay them.

_They live my brother_. A familiar and much loved voice broke into his thoughts. _They were delayed by a device from the same Age that your future self and his companions come from and their mounts fled in fear. Even now they ride towards you with a warning. They believe the device may be from Thangorodrim, but it is not. It seeks one of the mortals, the one whose body is currently occupied by Olorin._

_A device? What kind of device? _Eonwe felt out of his depth, a very unusual situation for him, and his irritation was beginning to rise because of it.

_They call it a tracking device. I do not know the details of the magic involved._ Ilmare's tone sounded regretful. _However this is not all. Warriors from their time have also now passed through the portal between our times and according to Lord Namo's guest, they are not just any kind of warrior, but the cream of their armies. They move in small numbers and carry out their missions with single-minded ruthlessness._

Eonwe sighed deeply_. And this mission, what else are they here to do apart from seeking contact with their own kind?_

_They are here to retrieve their people nothing more. Chief Knowles assures us that this is all they will do, although if they are challenged they will fight and fight to the death. _Ilmare replied calmly_. Olorin already knows they are here in Ennorath, Chief Knowles awaits the signal from him that will initiate his return to his body._

_Their people are now scattered. _Eonwe was filled with frustration, an emotion which was usually alien to him_. Gary, Kim and the other mortal Alun Davies are with my armies. Chief Knowles and Jim are here with the young High King._

There was a brief silence, as if his sister Maia was seeking counsel, then she finally answered.

_Then you must bring them together now. I know the risks involved with you and your other self, but there is no other way. Those whom you now seek are approaching and they know where the orc Thadak is. Find him, do what you must and then you must go back to the Host taking Ereinion Gil-galad and his warriors with you. There he will also find the Peredhel, the children of Elwing and Earendil the Mariner. They are meant to be with their kin._

_This is the wish of those we serve? _Eonwe asked. He was wondering why these instructions came from his sister Maia and not directly from Lord Manwe.

_It is. _She answered. _Lord Manwe thought that this might be better coming from me, it is not an order, it is a suggestion._

_Then I will see it done. Whatever befalls Gary and myself, Eru's and the Valar's will must be done. _His voice held a tinge of sadness and resignation._ I had hoped to send Gary back with Kim. She needs his protection on the other side. In their time._

_As to that, I have been told to tell you to seek counsel from the mortal Alun Davies. He may have a solution to this problem. You must also ensure that he knows his family is now safe._

_I will. _Eonwe promised_. And the warriors from the other time? How many do they number?_

Again Ilmare hesitated._ They are few in number, a mere half dozen, but what they lack in numbers they make up for in expertise and weaponry. They also have the ability to conceal themselves from any enemy and they move swiftly. They will reach your position in a few hours. They have already detected Chief Knowles's presence and are homing in to him._

Eonwe was dismayed._ In hours only? Then we must hurry. Farewell my sister, may the Valar be with you always._

_May Eru and the Valar grant you speed and fair winds brother. _Ilmare said softly in farewell. _Make haste and bring this to a speedy end. You are greatly missed here in Aman._

Eonwe knew full well that his sister was referring to both the war _and_ the situation with the mortals. His heart was full of sorrow and concern but he could do nothing more than wish Ilmare farewell for the moment. His eyes, silvered over up to now in communication, returned to their usual dark blue and he found Jim's curious gaze leveled at him as they rode along after Gil-galad and the others.

"What's up?" Jim asked quietly. "You were out of it for a while there."

Eonwe smiled at him. "The British are coming." He said simply.

Olorin spurred his horse over to Eonwe's side. "Did I hear you aright? Who _exactly_ are coming?"

"The cavalry are coming over the hill or rather through the woods. In the form of Special Forces soldiers armed to the teeth and complete with orders to find you." The Herald said wryly. "We need to find Celebrimbor, Bausi and Erestor. Apparently some sort of tracking device is also here."

Enlightenment flooded Olorin's face. "Ah yes, the UAV. My host has something he calls a 'chip' in his body, the device can track his whereabouts with it." He stopped and shaded his eyes while looking up to the sky. "And if I am not mistaken, there it is." He pointed to a small determined shape which appeared to be heading straight for the party of elves. Even as he spoke the others had already seen what he had seen and were also pointing at it.

Gil-galad called a halt and followed by Cirdan and Celeborn, urged his horse back to where Eonwe, Olorin and Jim were at the rear of the main party. The young High King was frowning; Cirdan and Celeborn just looked both bemused and concerned. Glorfindel and Gildor were busy deploying the rest of the warriors in order to deal with this newly perceived threat. Archers were busy taking up strategic positions in preparation for the order to shoot the strange flying thing down, but as yet the order had not been given.

Ereinion drew up beside Eonwe. "We appear to have some mysterious flying creature heading right for us. What do your Valar tell you of this? The tales tell us that the Lord of the Breath of Arda can see much from his towers on the summit of Taniquetil and that he has unlimited sight if the Lady Varda is by his side. He must be seeing this and it is clear to me that you have been in communication with him. What sorts of magicks of the enemy are now ranged against us?" He demanded. "Speak quickly Herald or I shall order the archers to shoot it from the sky."

Eonwe sighed in resignation and leant briefly against his horse's neck. Leading the Host wasn't anywhere near as complicated as coping with the dark Elves of Ennorath. They seemed to constantly see slights where there were none. It was rapidly becoming clear that he needed to address these elves of the East, explain his mission and listen to their issues. Something he should have done ere he landed on these shores and would have done had it not been for the urgent brief to march given to him by the Valar. As for the flying device he rather doubted that they could shoot the damn thing down anyway.

"My sister Ilmare was the person I was in contact with, not Lord Manwe or any of the other Valar. The 'creature' you see flying towards us is a device of the mortals from the other time. It is designed to track warriors…a certain kind of warrior, one of whom we have with us." He nodded towards Olorin. "It will do us no harm; your warriors can stand down."

Ereinion glanced at Cirdan and Celeborn who both looked perplexed at this turn of events. They all stared accusingly at Olorin who bit back a smile and surveyed them with the best look of innocence he could conjure up. He said nothing and waited for the inevitable interrogation.

"Well?" The High King demanded again. "What do you say to this Chief? _Is_ this device harmless to us?"

"It certainly can't actually hurt you, it has no weapons capability." Olorin replied cheerfully as he dredged the Chief's memories once again to come up with a simple explanation that everyone would understand. "It's tracking me because I have something called a tracking chip inside my body, put there by the military when I was in a war in a place called Afghanistan. I was part of a small covert team sent in to gather intelligence from the enemy. By means of this very small device they placed under my skin, the flying device you see now, which is called an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle and which is controlled from very far away, can find me. It sends out a signal which my chip answers. They needed to know where their personnel were so that they could retrieve us if things went bad."

The expressions on the faces of the Elves surrounding him were priceless to say the least. They ranged from outright disbelief right through to total incomprehension. Ereinion actually felt his jaw drop and he wasn't the only one.

"H…how?" He stuttered, then he flapped a hand at Olorin. "Never mind, I am not sure I wish to know." He beckoned to Glorfindel who rode over to him.

"My Lord?"

"Stand them down Lord Glorfindel." The High King said. "We are told that this device is not from the enemy and is here to find the mortals who travel with us, not to harm us. We will allow it to approach unchallenged."

Glorfindel looked disbelievingly at the High King. His golden brows were knitted together in confusion. "Indeed? Very well my Lord, I will stand them down, but…"

Ereinion frowned at him. "No buts Glorfindel. My head aches enough from the explanation Chief has just given us, I have no wish to hear it again, nor do I _wish_ to make sense of it. Let the thing approach. We will continue our journey notwithstanding. We have an orc to find… and _where_ are those dratted scouts? Eru's balls, must I send _another _scouting party to scout the scouts? This is getting ridiculous. Let us just _find_ this damnable orc and have at him."

Olorin winked at Jim and Eonwe. "Apparently they can't get the staff these days…" He said with a completely straight face.

Eonwe let out a very undignified and un-Herald like splutter of laughter which was echoed by a series of manic snorts from Jim.

The beleaguered young High King ignored the hilarity, gathered up the tattered remnants of his dignity and rode back up to the front of his warriors, head high and back ramrod straight. A suitably outraged Celeborn followed him with his wife's distant silvery laughter ringing in his ears. Cirdan merely raised an eyebrow at Eonwe and Jim who were both cackling maniacally as they rode and received a totally disarming smile from Olorin. He shook his head in mock despair and spurred his horse back up to where Ereinion had taken his place at the head of his small army. A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

ooOoo

**Eonwe's tent, The camp of the Host of the West, northern Beleriand**

"She doesn't love me you know." Gary said quietly.

He, Tulkas and Alun Davies were sitting outside Eonwe's tent in the late evening. Maedhros, Maglor and the two Peredhel had excused themselves around the same time as Kim had stated that she was too tired to sit any longer.

It had been clear all night that she was bursting to have some sort of confrontation with Gary, but at the same time something had held her back from doing it before or during dinner. Gary had braced himself for the onslaught only to find her eyeing him with speculation instead.

She had calmly accepted his explanation of the situation between himself and Eonwe, rather too calmly in fact for his liking. She seemed to take on board that they were currently two separate entities and did not question the fact that Eonwe had remained with Gil-galad and Gary had remained as the Captain of the Host. Neither Tulkas nor Gary had any explanation for her apparent acceptance of it all, but both suspected that the presence of Alun Davies acted as a calming influence. If she began to sound the least bit demanding or querulous in her comments, he immediately stepped in with a calm comment of his own or a joke.

Gary wasn't sure whether to be pleased that he was being spared the histrionics he felt were bubbling under the surface or not.

When Maedhros and Maglor arrived with Elrond and Elros she was almost pathetically pleased to see them. The subsequent dinner conversation was in a mixture of halting Sindarin and English. Many things had to be explained to either Kim or the Feanorians. Still the evening went well. Maedhros even overcame his natural suspicions to be pleasant to Gary in his guise as the Herald of Manwe. Elrond and Elros were far too much in awe of the Vala and the Maia to add much to the conversation. However they did ask a few questions about their parents which Gary was able to answer with a little help from Eonwe and Tulkas much to his relief.

Tulkas was just himself through the whole thing. Amiable, good-natured and booming; it was obvious that Kim took to the Vala immediately and he to her. He teased her affectionately and made her laugh and Gary envied him the ease with which he did it, as he envied the friendship that had grown between her and the Peredhel. Hell, he even envied Maedhros his ease of conversation with Kim. Would that his own relationship with her was as friendly.

And Maglor sang. _All_ he had to do was sing and many drew near to the Herald's tent to listen to his incomparable voice. When Gary, Tulkas and Maedhros joined in the song to Elbereth it moved those listening outside to tears.

Once Maedhros and his companions had taken their leave and Kim had stated how tired she was, Gary had stood up and was on the point of suggesting that he escort her to the quarters that had hastily been organized for her. However before he could say anything, she forestalled him by giving Maedhros a radiant smile and asking very prettily if he and his brother would escort her to her tent. Maedhros offered his arm, glanced over at Gary apologetically and raised an eyebrow whereupon Gary shrugged and stepped back. Kim said her goodnights and left clutching onto Maedhros' good arm.

Neither Maedhros nor Maglor or the twins missed the slightly bitter look in Gary's eyes, nor did they miss the comforting arm Tulkas draped around his shoulders as they walked away. Alun Davies watched with his sharp gaze and said nothing at all. His relief at hearing that his family was safe and well was palpable, yet for some reason part of him was still on alert and his unease was shared by Tulkas and Gary. Sauron still had a link with him and the corrupt Maia was still waiting not so many leagues away for a report that would not now come. That alone could precipitate some trouble.

With that in mind Gary had spoken with Finarfin and Ingwion and with the blessing of the Valar they had decided to send a large war party of warriors to rout the corrupt Maia and his group the following day. Hopefully that would sever whatever link existed between Alun and Sauron.

For that reason Gary and Tulkas had, of course, avoided any kind of strategic discussions and Gary had heard Maedhros' report in private. There was no reason to _give_ intelligence away willy-nilly.

So here they were, the three of them, sitting outside the tent in the late evening drinking the last of the wine and discussing many surface things, not least of which was General Sheldon and the doings on the other side of the time portal.

"Why do you say that?" Tulkas asked gently after Gary had made his bleak statement.

Gary shrugged and took a sip of wine. "Because she doesn't. I can feel she doesn't. She loves him. The child she carries is his, not mine."

"But you say that there is no difference between yourself and Lord Eonwe other than the fact that you are a future version of him." Alun was puzzled. "Are you saying that there _is_ a difference?"

Gary pursed his lips. "Yes…and no. We are intrinsically the same. I feel his emotions and I think his thoughts. He feels my emotions and he thinks my thoughts, yet we operate separately. His daily experiences are different to mine and they shape his thoughts, then I will experience something which might contradict what he is thinking." He dropped his head in distress. "I don't know. I'm not explaining it very well at all. What I do know is that the more time we spend in the same timeline, the more _my_ thoughts begin to meld in with _his_ but not the other way around. His thoughts do not meld with mine. I find myself constantly thinking like someone from this Age and not as someone from 2007."

"And what has this got to do with how Kim feels or perceives you both?" Alun persisted. "She seems to have accepted that there are two of you…" He hesitated. "Or is that the problem? While she only thought that _one_ of you existed, there was _no_ problem. She accepted that you were just who you said you were. Now she knows that there are two of you, that the man who made love to her is not you and her choice automatically rests with the one she was intimate with."

Gary looked miserably at him. "Yes, that's it. I am not the man she fell in love with. I just _look_ like him. She is thinking of it as though Eonwe and I are twins, not one and the same person and the differences are still strong enough for us to seem like two different people."

Tulkas rested his long legs comfortably on a carved box which held dispatches. "That will alter soon enough if Eonwe and Gil-galad cannot resolve the situation quickly. You _will_ become one person."

"That will solve nothing. Once we are one, I…we…will have to stay here. I will still have my duty to perform by bringing the reign of Morgoth to a close and him in irons back to the Valar. That will not alter. What it will mean for her is that she will go back alone and have our child in a modern Age. She has no family to support her and my estates will not revert to her since my Will is not made out in her favour. She does not even know that she is pregnant. She will be without help and will have to bring our child up alone. I have no guarantee that Eru will send me back. The whole idea was for me to be the presence and the force for good that Middle Earth lacks."

Tulkas tapped his teeth with his forefinger thoughtfully. "What would it take to secure hers and your child's position in that future age?"

Gary stared into the night. Before him a panorama of twinkling lights was laid out. It seemed as though the whole of the camp area was carpeted with precious jewels just waiting to be plucked from the earth. He sighed to himself and wished he could enjoy the beauty without the nagging worries.

"I would have thought that marriage would have been the answer." Alun said quietly. "A legal marriage would secure Kim's position as your wife, or widow if you were declared missing in action and then I imagine dead after a suitable period. It would also legitimize your child as your legal heir with rights to your estate and Kim would be entitled to your army pension."

Gary laughed shortly. "Nice idea Alun, but where would I find a vicar here in the middle of Middle Earth on a battlefield." Utter despair tinged his voice. "I doubt that any ceremony performed by anyone here _including_ by Lord Tulkas would be considered binding in 2007."

Alun steepled his hands together and looked through his fingers at Gary. He laughed. "Well, there's always _me_ of course."

Tulkas glanced sharply at the policeman and a glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.

"You're a police officer Alun not a Registrar of Marriages." Gary countered with a faint smile.

Alun nodded. "Yes I am indeed, but I was…am also a Presbyterian Pastor in my home village. I practiced there before I was moved to the Mendips with the Police Force. It was just a tiny village. I also ran the Post Office. I am still licensed to perform marriage ceremonies. I had to be the long arm of the law, religious leader _and_ civil servant."

Gary sat up hopefully. "You could marry us? Here?"

Tulkas glanced from one to the other.

"Why _not_ here?" Alun's expression was quizzical. "If I am right in what I am thinking it is not so far from here that the west of England and Wales will be in thousands of years. It's still the same land."

"It's Beleriand in Middle Earth, Alun." Gary dared not hope in his heart of hearts that this could be achieved.

Alun waved a nonchalant hand at him and exchanged grins with Tulkas. "Beleriand Schmeleriand." He said airily. "Bit of a technicality is what I call it. Besides, who is going to question me if I say that you were legally married by me in the United Kingdom?"

"I need to speak to Kim." Gary said worriedly. "Somehow I need to make her see that this is the right thing to do. In spite of her being in love with the wrong me." He groaned suddenly in despair and buried his head in his hands. "Dear heaven, I cannot _believe_ I am trying to sort all this mess out in the middle of a war."

Tulkas refilled Gary's glass and pushed it over to him. "Drink and breathe." He said firmly. "_You_ cannot speak to her because she is not yet aware that she carries the child. It would be best if I or Alun here or even perhaps Maedhros spoke to her of this and convinced her that it is necessary. Even then I am not sure she would comply. Of course that would mean taking him and Maglor into our confidence."

Gary looked up at him. "Do you trust him? I mean given the kinslaying thing and everything that's happened with his family." He sounded doubtful.

"Strange as it may seem, yes I do trust him. I trust him with anything as long as it has naught to do with that damned oath or the Silmarils. And so does Eonwe. Why _else _would he use Maedhros and his band for scouting and courier purposes? Maedhros is an honourable Elf, he will keep your counsel. Besides, he has a soft spot for Kim. He respects her and I suspect that it is his influence and that of those around him which has tempered your Kim's behaviour. If we ask him to speak with her, he will." Tulkas settled back and took a long draught of his wine. "I believe that even those young Peredhel Elflings would be able to convince her. Nice young lads."

Gary smiled. "Yes they are, but they should be in a home with parents and those who would love and protect them, not trailed around battle camps like unwanted baggage. They would be far better off with Ereinion Gil-galad. Perhaps we should then discuss the matter of Kim and marriage with Maedhros and Maglor and tentatively broach the idea that Elros and Elrond will be far better off in the High King's court with Gil-galad at the same time. _Diplomatically_ of course."

"Indeed." Tulkas assented. "But not at this late hour. We will have time before the daily command briefing tomorrow morning."

Gary nodded. "Yes, tomorrow is another day." He turned to Alun. "Your being brought here might be providence after all. Now, I have to get Eonwe to come back here with Chief Knowles and Jim."

Tulkas twinkled at him. "That matter is already in hand."

He was rewarded by Gary's rather startled look, but would say nothing more when pressed further.

ooOoo


	48. Death is only the beginning

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.** I should also state now that although I have quoted the Bible I am not particularly religious and am not attempting to thrust it at anyone. I merely felt that these sayings were rather comforting and fitted the subject matter of the chapter very appropriately.

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father's leave. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. - **Matthew 10:29-31:**

**Chapter 48 – Death is only the beginning**

**Somewhere in Beleriand…**

"Why will it not just go away?" Gil-galad commented crossly. "Surely it has what it needs; it has flown close enough over our heads to get enough information to see it through for the next yeni." He turned to Olorin. "You said that your chip spoke to it. Can it not answer it and tell it to depart?"

Olorin shrugged. "It's obviously tailing us for some reason, which is puzzling because I would have thought it would have run out of range by now."

Jim squinted up into the sky, shading his eyes with one hand as he did so. "Hmm. Not so sure about that. Celebrimbor and Erestor said that it first buzzed them near where the orc had gone to ground and we are backtracking to there. It stands to reason that if it had enough range to buzz them there in the first place, then it has enough to follow us back there. I agree with Chief, I think it's actually following him now."

He looked over at Eonwe who had been silent for some time now. His eyes were not silvered over, which normally indicated that he was in communion with those from the West, so it meant that he was merely deep in thought. "What do you think Boss?" He poked Eonwe in his arm.

Eonwe who had been lost in thought started slightly. He was not accustomed to being poked by anyone, let alone mortals. "Huh? What do I think about what?" He asked in a querulous tone that matched Gil-galad's almost exactly.

"The UAV." Jim pointed heavenwards. "We reckon it's following the Chief here. Can't think why it would though."

It was certain that the Herald was not currently firing off all four thrusters and hadn't been since he learnt that Kim was now reunited with Gary. His normally ultra-disciplined thought processes kept insisting on veering off towards imaginary scenarios, mostly consisting of Kim locked in Gary's arms and them having a passionate reunion in his tent. The idea infuriated him beyond belief, even though he fully realised how ridiculous his jealousy was. He had to repeat to himself that he and Gary were the same person, over and over again.

Therefore his subsequent momentary lapse in diplomacy and apparent inability to keep secrets was purely down to this lack of due concentration. For the first time in his existence he blurted out something that was far better kept to himself for the moment.

"It's probably sending messages back to the SAS soldiers who have come through to find you all." He said absently.

A deathly silence followed and the distracted Herald discovered that his horse had come to a halt and he was now surrounded by a number of accusing pairs of eyes.

"Um…" Was the only thing that came out of his mouth, right alongside the tide of red that swept up his neck and face.

Gil-galad brought his horse closer and grabbed hold of the Herald's mount's bridle. "What?" The complexion of his face had also darkened somewhat, but it was a more purplish sort of hue. "What are you talking about now?"

Eonwe looked wildly at Olorin who was sitting quietly while rolling his eyes heavenward. He shrugged at the Herald.

"You're on your own here." He said with such a cheerful grin that Eonwe wanted to throttle him. "Let me know how it works out for you."

Jim looked shaken. "The _SAS_ are here? When? How? Why?"

"Four _very_ good questions." The High King said grimly. "To which I would like to know the answers now, if not sooner."

The Herald looked utterly stricken, so Olorin decided to take pity on him and help him out a bit. "Well, it stands to reason I suppose, where the UAV came the soldiers followed. And of course the Valar would have no choice but to let Lord Eonwe here know as soon as they did. I imagine he was waiting for the right moment..."

His voice trailed off as the High King's complexion turned to puce. Ereinion's handsome features contorted as he tried to gain some control over the desire to ram Aiglos up the Maia's anal orifice.

Everyone watched with fascination, including Eonwe, as the High King's colour faded to something approximating normal flesh colour. The Herald could have kicked himself for his lack of control and concentration.

_That's what love does to you_. Olorin's voice sounded in his mind.

_I do not like it_. Eonwe forced between gritted teeth. _I do not want to be in love. I cannot afford to be in love._

_Suck it up and deal._ Came Olorin's impudent reply.

Eonwe turned to look at his fellow Maia. "Do me a favour will you?" He said tersely.

Olorin smiled widely at him. "If I can, of course I will."

"Don't do me _any_ favours and stop helping me." Eonwe knew how petulant he sounded, but fortunately Olorin took it in the right way and burst out laughing.

Gil-galad finally found his voice. "THE RIGHT MOMENT?" He thundered loud enough to scare a few of the horses. The High King turned to Cirdan and Celeborn. "What does he mean by the right moment?" His voice had taken on a plaintive note. "We have not had one of _those_ since this whole ridiculous fiasco started."

Eonwe spread his hands out helplessly and decided on an expression of contrition; another emotion that the Herald had not had personal experience of in his long existence. "I am sorry. I really am. You are right; there _is_ no right moment for that kind of information. I should have told you at the outset, but we were so busy trying to catch up with the orc, it just never seemed to be the right time to bring it up. And my mind is elsewhere…" His head drooped. "That is no excuse, I realise…I am ashamed of myself."

Immediately the High King's glare softened and became one of sympathy. All of them knew how the Herald felt about Kim and now she wasn't here with him and he was trying to come to terms with perhaps never seeing her or his child again. He reached out and patted Eonwe's arm soothingly.

"Ah well, it is understandable. I suppose there is no harm done. It is not as if we can stop these soldiers. They are already here, although what it means for us ultimately is of very real concern. Are these soldiers like Garee and you?" Gil-galad looked at Olorin for an answer.

Olorin shifted uncomfortably. "Well…um…not _exactly_ like Gary. More like what I _used_ to be really."

Glorfindel drew up beside the High King once again. "My Lord, much as I do not wish to interrupt this little discussion, we need to make haste and the orc could be escaping as we speak. The scouts have already spotted what could be a large group of orc only a few leagues from where Celebrimbor and Erestor left him. If we tarry here…" He left the rest unsaid, but all of them knew what he meant.

"Of course, of course." Gil-galad turned his horse around. "We can do nothing about the soldiers and there will be time enough to discuss the ramifications of their presence here once we deal with the orc. Let us ride and talk later. We will deal with this orc for once and for all, hopefully _before_ his friends reach him."

Glorfindel gave the signal for the party to ride on.

ooOoo

**Thangorodrim, northern Beleriand**

There certainly _was_ a large party of orc and they were heading towards the shallow cave in a small mountain range where Thadak lay in a state of delirium. However they could not be termed his friends under any circumstances.

Morgoth was well aware that the orc was on his last legs. He also knew that the infernal High King of the Noldor who kept managing to rally the remnants of the elves of Ennorath together despite Morgoth's best efforts to divide and conquer them, was much nearer at hand than the party of orcs was.

It had now become a race to reach Thadak first. If Morgoth's party under the direct leadership of Sauron himself took the lead, they would win the weapon and a huge advantage. Something that would most certainly win the war for them. If the Elves reached him first then they would strip away that advantage, although then, the outcome of the war would be as it always would have been, a triumph to superior forces, whoever they belonged to.

On the other hand if Sauron and his party managed to reach the Elves before they got too far away, then battle could be joined and the weapon could still be won. Morgoth decided that this could be turned into a win-win situation for him.

However fate had yet to play her final hand. If Morgoth had been aware of modern parlance, he would have known the old saying "It isn't over until the large lady sings." And she hadn't even _begun _to practice her scales yet.

ooOoo

A part of Thadak knew full well that he was dying. The only cool part of him was the hard metal of the very thing that had ultimately led to his demise as it lay against his back. His leathery skin was now grey coloured, but mottled in places with what looked like small red spots.

His body was wracked with fever as the poisons in his blood, which modern doctors call septicemia, spread like wildfire through his system. His immune system had long since ceased to be able to fight it off.

At first the chills and spiking fevers had caused him to drift in and out of consciousness. He would then wake up abruptly after a few seconds and be aware that his breathing was too fast, almost like the panting of a warg when overheated. This was accompanied by the sensation that his heart was beating far too fast, which of course it was.

Eventually he would fall into shock as his body temperature decreased. His blood pressure would fall and the confusion he felt would become a lot worse and he would rapidly decline to the point where he went into septic shock. Death would not be far behind.

It was around this point that Thadak became aware that there was another presence in the cave. He desperately tried to sit up and croak out a challenge, but was unable to move. His vision was clouded with fever and he could not make out if this was friend or foe. However, he managed to get enough strength from someone to ask who was there. Not that it mattered really; Thadak couldn't have fought his way out of a paper bag.

The dark robed figure came closer. The hood of the rich cloak it wore was trimmed with sable and it partly hid its features.

"Who _are_ you?" Thadak managed croak once more. "I cannot see your face." He slumped back, exhausted with the supreme effort used in just speaking a few words.

The figure lifted the hood with two slender white hands and thrust it back to reveal perhaps the most beautiful male being the orc had ever beheld in his entire life. Morgoth and his lieutenants had beauty to be sure, but it was rent through with blackness and evil. This creature exuded beauty, light and compassion. Thadak let out a weak cry of awe.

The figure stooped down and placed a cool hand on the orc's brow. Thadak shuddered and tried to speak again, but the being gently placed two fingers against the cracked leather of his lips and shook his head.

"Hush child, try to rest a little." His tone was so filled with compassion that Thadak wanted to weep, but no tears would come. The moisture in his body had been expended as he lay in a fevered state.

"Help..." He croaked. "Wh…who?"

Namo smiled softly. "I can do nothing for your sickness child, it has gone too far and must now run its course, but somewhere, deep in your fever, you sent out a call of despair and there is one who heard it. I am Lord Namo, he who looks after the Halls of Waiting in Mandos, where _all_ of the fea who answer the call of Mandos come for judgment. I have been sent by Eru, who heard your call, to answer it."

Thadak clawed desperately at Namo's sleeve. "It pains and burns, _ai _I am dying. Why would this Eru hear any call of mine? I have killed, maimed and fed." The brief spurt of energy that it took him to say all of these things dissipated and he slumped back again. "I am unworthy." He whispered, almost to himself, because he had almost decided that this being was a figment of his fever and nothing more. Yet somewhere deep inside him a small spark of hope lingered.

Namo gently stroked the greasy stringy hair. "Eru, who formed all the stars of heaven, knows _whenever_ a sparrow falls from the sky. He loves _all_ of His creation. He loves you too! You are worth more than many sparrows to Eru!"

Namo could see the confusion in the orc's fevered vision and he knew that it would not be long before this one's hroa failed, yet he rallied enough to ask another question.

"What must I do?" It was faint and childlike, but it was the question that the Vala had been awaiting.

"Nothing now child, your hroa fails you. Soon you will fall into a deep sleep from which there is no awakening, not in this life anyway. Then only your fea, that which was before you were destroyed will remain. Then you must choose. You will either choose to remain houseless or you will choose to accompany me. If it is the former, then eventually your houseless spirit will be enchained by Morgoth or someone equally evil. If you choose the latter, then you will come to the place that all creatures come when they die. You are of Elven stock, which is why you dreamed of another place and time…another life. Therefore your fea will stand in Mahanaxar for judgment by the Valar and will reside in the Halls of Waiting until Arda is remade or the decision is made to release you to whatever life should have been yours. The choice to come to me is _yours_ alone."

Thadak's body shuddered again from head to foot. He groped out with his hand and the Vala took it in his own. The orc opened his eyes, but could not keep them open long, the light hurt too much. "Will…will you stay with me? Until I sleep?" His voice was faint, but Namo heard every word.

"Of course child, what else would I do?"

The orc's eyelids flickered shut and his breathing seemed to ease somewhat, but the Vala knew that it was the end for him, he would not now regain consciousness. He sat for a long while and watched as the breathing slowed. The fingers that had gripped his relaxed and then all was still.

Namo stood up and waited. If anyone else other than a Vala or Maia had been in the cave they would not have seen what he saw. A faintly etched figure appeared just above that of the orc. It stood and turned slowly towards where Namo stood with his arms outstretched in welcome. The orc Thadak had, in life, been as ugly as most of his kind, but this fea was as tall, clean-limbed and as beautiful as any elf, with long dark hair fanned out over his shoulders. He looked questioningly at the Vala and Namo smiled.

Without further hesitation the fea, who was once Thadak thrust everything in the past away from him and walked towards Namo who embraced him.

"Welcome home my beloved child." He said simply.

ooOoo


	49. I'm from the government I'm here to help

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.** Thanks to those reviewers who reviewed anonymously and those who I didn't manage to reply to while I was in South Africa. I am now back home in the UK for a little while.

The direct use of force is such  
a poor solution to any problem.  
It is generally employed only by  
small children and large nations.  
**- David Friedman**

**Chapter 48 - I'm from the government, I'm here to help you**

Not a single rustle, clink of weapon or heavy tread disturbed the silent forest. Nor did the burnished sun create one runnel of sweat that left a trail by the unwary to be followed or detected by a perceived or unperceived enemy. Months and months of service in the steaming forests of Papua New Guinea and places like it had produced soldiers so inured to the climatic conditions that nothing phased them.

They whispered from tree to bush and back to tree, obeying silent hand signals instantly and without question, blending in with both shadow and sunshine. Perhaps only an Elf or a Maia could have detected them if either had been around to witness it. Again, perhaps not.

The only thing that_could _have indicated their presence was a soft green light on the locater held by the leader of these silent warriors. A light that would turn to orange and then red as they grew closer to their target.

They did not stop. Not even to take a sip from a canteen, nor for a rest. Whatever creatures still remained in this place – and there were not many now – either remained quiet in their hiding place until these silent beings passed, or swiftly moved forward on their long journey northwards and to safety.

Only the Valar watched in trepidation as the figures slipped like shades through the forest of Willows known as Nan Tathren and inexorably headed all points north towards where the Host of the West and Ereinion Gil-galad's small army lay.

Manwe sighed and closed his eyes. _They are coming_. He sent a weary message to Eonwe, Olorin and also to Tulkas. _They are deadly, swift and silent warriors and will be upon you before even you know it. Be vigilant. Any sign of aggression from you will be met with deadly force. Olorin must be ready to release control of Chief Knowles as soon as they appear to you._

_We will be vigilant._ They promised.

ooOoo

A few leagues away from the Special Forces soldiers, Sauron aka Gorthaur the Cruel, first lieutenant of Morgoth, called a halt to the large force of orcs behind him.

They stopped dead with a great deal of snuffling and wheezing along with many hoarse grunts of complaint which were immediately silenced by the flat edge of heavy iron swords belonging to their commanders and sergeants.

Sauron sniffed the air and looked around him. His keen gaze pierced through forest and bush, through rock and across the now turgid rivers of a dying, staggering Beleriand already in the throes of impending doom. A swift blur of movement appeared across the periphery of his vision and his head turned, as swift as a striking snake, towards it. A hiss of frustration escaped him as his quarry seemed to disappear into thin air or at the very least a clump of bushes. He reached out a hand as if to part the bushes even from where he sat his horse, but even as his gaze penetrated the foliage, whatever had stopped there momentarily had either moved on or more than adequately concealed itself from him.

Was it Elf or mortal man? There was no way to tell, but Sauron had no time for the clumsy secondborn who could not possibly hope to escape his keen sight and long arm. So, definitely not mortal man. A decision he would ultimately come to regret.

Elf then. As much as he despised the Eldar, only one of the firstborn could move so swiftly and slip away unseen. His face beneath the dark helm he wore twisted into a silent snarl.

He shifted on the back of the black horse and directed his senses once again to the here and now. An Elven patrol from the armies of the West then. Soon, very soon, Morgoth would deal with them and Sauron would have his pick of the accursed Eldar to torture, maim and bend his will upon them until they knew themselves no more. For now he had more than enough to take on the warriors of Gil-galad and the High King himself. _That_ particular thorn in their side would soon be nothing more than memory.

He straightened in the saddle and peremptorily signed for his party to ride on.

They crashed through the underbrush behind him, as noisy in their intent as the modern soldiers were utterly silent in theirs.

ooOoo

Eonwe stooped down and picked up the last of the assault rifles. It had been propped up outside the entrance of a shallow cave on the low reaches of a small mountain range, almost as though someone had placed it there for them to find easily.

The Elves, Olorin and Jim watched in silence as he cocked the weapon and made it safe. Despite the hard run journey it must have made, the moving parts moved silkily and snicked into place. Eonwe lifted it up and stared down the barrel. Good cleaning and oiling by the original armourer had kept the weapon in reasonable working order, although the outside was dusty and a little battered. Even the sling remained, although it was crusted with dirt and blood. He heaved a sigh and adjusted it so that he could wear it across his back.

Glorfindel and Erestor emerged from the cave and approached the High King, Eonwe and the main party.

"The orc is dead." The golden elf-lord said impassively. "His body lies within, he is not cold, yet already his body begins to decay."

Gil-galad started in surprise and he was not the only one. Only the bodies of the Eldar decayed so swiftly after death. He dismounted and gestured for Eonwe to follow him into the entrance of the cave.

It was indeed as Glorfindel had reported. The cold body of the orc known as Thadak lay curled up in the fetal position at the back of the cool cave. Both Gil-galad and Eonwe could see that it was already returning to the earth, almost as if whatever had inhabited it was long gone and left just an empty shell.

Gil-galad bent down and stared at the corpse more closely. He shivered slightly as a cool breath of wind passed by him and straightened up only to find Eonwe standing quietly with his eyes silvered over, a clear indication that he was in communion with someone. He waited patiently until the Herald's eyes had cleared once again and raised an eyebrow in query.

"The orc's fea has passed into the Halls of Waiting. Mandos has accepted it into his care."

Gil-galad's mouth dropped open in shock. "The _orc's _fea has passed into the halls?" He whispered, realising full well that he sounded just like an echo.

Eonwe nodded. "Yes."

"But..." Gil-galad floundered slightly. If he was being truly honest with himself he honestly hadn't really given too much thought as to where the fea of an orc went after death or indeed even if an orc _had_ a fea to begin with.

The Herald smiled kindly at him. "Think you not that _all_ creatures belong to Eru and that he would not care for them if they willingly answered the call of his servant?"

Gil-galad flushed slightly. "I had not given it too much coherent thought." He confessed readily. "They were always just the enemy, there to be killed. I was always taught that they were twisted creatures made by Morgoth and _had_ no fea. It had not occurred to me that they too would receive the call to Mandos..."

His voice trailed away under the compassionate gaze of the Maia and in that moment he saw Eonwe in his true form. Fierce, lit from behind like a small sun, beautiful and yet filled with ancient knowledge and wisdom. He quailed slightly and staggered as though drunk. Eonwe reached out with a sympathetic smile, caught him and steadied him with one strong hand even as he tried to drop to his knees. The Herald shook his head and he softened the glow of his true form.

"You must not kneel to me child. _Never_ to me." He said gently.

"I am sorry." Gil-galad whispered through dry lips. He had travelled many leagues with this bright being and had even shouted at him in anger and exasperation, but not once had he truly accepted who and what he was until now.

"For what?" The Herald seemed puzzled.

"For any disrespect I gave you." Gil-galad stammered. "I did not realise. I have yelled at you as though you were one of us and you are clearly not." He could have kicked himself for his incoherence. His words didn't even make sense to _his_ ears never mind to a Maia's.

Eonwe threw back his head and his rich, melodious laughter echoed around the small cave. "And was I _not_ one of you?" His tone was whimsical. His bright eyes shone with laughter. "Child, I have valued _each_ and _every_ hour spent with you and yours. Too keen was I to follow the orders of my Lords in the West when we landed. I pressed on when I should have stopped and spoken with those already here. I did not truly understand what any of you, whose home this is, felt about our presence in these lands and I have been justly reprimanded. Thus was I allowed to remain with you and learn the lessons that my other half has already learned in another time. You are, and will be, a fine High King, Ereinion Gil-galad and it has been my honour to know you and serve with you and your commanders. I salute all of you."

Gil-galad blushed furiously and would have answered had they not been interrupted by Celeborn who stood in the cave entrance with a grim look on his face.

Eonwe turned to him. "What is it?" Yet even as he asked the question he sensed the presence of another Maia. "Sauron." He said through tight lips. The brightness grew around him again, like a mantle of pure light.

"What? Where?" Gil-galad looked around him wildly, as if he expected to see the dark lieutenant of Morgoth casually leaning against the wall.

"Our scouts say that he and a large force of orc are but only a short distance away, my Lord." Celeborn said, his eyes were now warily watching as Eonwe transformed again into a Lord of the West. "Do we go now or fight?" His question was aimed at the Herald and not Gil-galad and the light of battle was in his silver-grey eyes.

"They are here for the weapon." Eonwe said grimly. "And Sauron will not give it up without a battle. If we leave, they will follow. We must find a place to make our stand. Bring him to us, on _our_ chosen ground, rather than allow him to engage us on his."

Gil-galad had gone deathly pale. "We cannot fight Sauron, Lord Eonwe. He is too powerful, my warriors are brave and able, but not for this foe."

Eonwe's smile was tight. "Indeed _you_ cannot, but _I_ can." He resolutely stepped from the cave.

ooOoo

The small light on the locater had grown orange and thence to a dull red. "Alpha to Charlie One. Are you receiving me, over?" Billy van Breda, known affectionately among his men as 'Dutch', broke radio silence and spoke softly into his radio.

"Charlie One to Alpha, receiving you loud and clear, over." His second in command, a seasoned SAS trooper and laconic joker of the group called David Flaherty and known as 'Irish' despite the fact that he was as Welsh as Cardiff Castle, crackled over the airwaves.

"Our target is in range and appears to be engaged with enemy, over." Even as Dutch took his finger off the switch he knew that the sounds of the clash of battle would be clear to all of the small troop.

There was a brief silence and then a click. "No shit, Sherlock." Came Irish's grim but humorous reply. "Do we assist?"

Dutch's eyes narrowed as he peered through his night vision goggles which also combined as a strong set of field glasses during daylight. The rest of the troop, including Rob Norman were now concealed in thick shrubbery around him. Beyond them and straight in front there was a gentle slope which spread out towards a fairly flat and rocky area about a quarter of a mile away from their hiding place.

There, in the middle of the rocky area, a battle had been joined. The kind of face to face firefight that no longer occurred too often in modern warfare, but the kind of fight that made modern warriors twitch uncontrollably to join in. Some kind of subliminal call to arms inbred into each human being as part of an ancient survival mechanism.

"Negative." He said softly. "Our orders are to retrieve, not to get involved. However, if our people are down there and things go tits up we may have to. We wait and watch what goes down."

Both men had forgone radio protocol in their conversation, but now the silent order went to each of them to stay concealed and stay silent was being obeyed.

"What's going on Tom?" Rob Norman whispered to his SAS companion and babysitter.

Tom's eyes gleamed and his teeth glittered through the cam cream in a huge grin. "This is when you find out that adrenalin is dark brown, very runny and smells something horrible, Professor." He winked at the young scientist.

Rob Norman clasped his arms around his knees in an effort to stop himself from shaking. His stomach had roiled up to somewhere just above mid-oesophagus and he could taste a metallic bitterness in the back of his throat. Now he understood authors when they wrote the phrase 'he could taste the fear' in their novels. He had always mocked the idea that fear was a taste and not just a feeling, but now he knew that fear did actually have a taste. Aptly enough, given the situation, it tasted like blood.

He groaned inwardly. Dear god, _how_ had he got himself into this mess? What in the name of god had possessed him? He was no soldier. These men around him _exulted_ in their profession. Fighting, violence and bloodshed were like meat and drink to them, second nature so to speak. He was a complete pacifist...okay, well, not that what he did for a living wasn't actually to _further_ modern warfare. Hardly a pacifistic stance really, but when he got back, he was going to change his damn job. Join something peaceful, like whale research...no perhaps not that, because then he would have to engage with whaling ships and that was a whole other set of violence.

Bird watching! That was it! He could do something really really quiet, like save the hedgerows or something. _Anything_ other than this death and violence.

All he had to do now was survive this self-inflicted situation he was in.

ooOoo


	50. I will live through this if it kills me

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.**

I will not carry a gun, Frank. When I got thrown into this war  
I had a clear understanding with the Pentagon: no guns.  
I'll carry your books, I'll carry a torch, I'll carry a tune, I'll carry  
on, carry over, carry forward, Cary Grant, cash and carry,  
carry me back to Old Virginia, I'll even 'hari-kari' if you show me how,  
but I will **not** carry a gun!

-**Captain Hawkeye Pierce MASH**

**Chapter 49 – I will live through this if it kills me**

It started off a bit like Mexican stand-off, or so Jim decided as he stood waiting for the fighting to commence.

They directly faced the enemy across a short space of ground soon to become a battlefield. Something that rarely, if ever, happens now in modern military warfare. At the head of the Elves Eonwe, head of all the Maiar, a formidable warrior, first among arms, personal Herald to the Elder King of Arda, Lord of the Valar sat his horse. A wonderful sight, yet a rather peculiar one given that he was dressed in Army camouflage combats and not his usual splendid armour.

Eonwe wore no helm, he did not need one to look imposing despite the dusty black combat boots and the incongruous clothing. His light shone out like a banner of strength and purity. He carried an assault rifle in one hand and wielded a sword in the other. Not his personal sword it had to be said; that remained in Gary's keeping, but to Eonwe a sword was a sword, was a sword.

Beside him, also sitting his horse was Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in exile. Now _he_ had a weapon, Aiglos, whose point glittered wickedly in the sunlight. Many an unfortunate orc had met his demise at the point of Aiglos. The High King also wore no helm, just a mithril circlet crafted by Celebrimbor that served the joint purpose of signifying his rank and also kept his long dark hair back from his face in battle. His light shone much more softly than the Maia's light, but shine it did, with the luminescence of the captured starlight of Elbereth, straight, true and pure.

Slightly behind him sat Glorfindel, golden reborn warrior. Like Eonwe he shone with the light of the two trees and the power given to one of the reborn. He was a translucent vessel filled with a light of such pure gold that it made the eyes ache to look upon him. He was counted as fair even among the rest of the Eldar, yet he now wore such a feral expression on his ethereally handsome face that would given pause to any orc who dared cross swords with him. He bore the light and power of the Eldar which, in a later age, would set the dark servants of Sauron to flee before it.

Cirdan, lord of the Teleri remaining on Arda had the most relaxed stance. He casually sat his horse and a faint smile hovered about his silver bearded lips. His very appearance was one of muted power, of great age and wisdom unquantified. He needed no light to shine. He would simply fight to the death if necessary and defend the young Elf who he had nurtured all these years and who he had proudly watched take his place among the great Kings of the Elves on Arda Marred.

Celeborn of Doriath sat tall in the saddle, he had withdrawn his sword and held it loosely and casually across the front of him. A consummate and experienced warrior by any standards. His silver hair shone like a banner in the sun. As he sat he gathered his strength from within, not least of which was the strength that his silver and golden lady sent to him with all of her heart and love. A quiet strength it had to be said. Not one that came with blinding golden light, but one that was honed in the fires of Doriath and one that also served to support and temper his more mercurial spouse, Galadriel. He was her tall silver tree, her strength and her soul mate. One could do worse than have Celeborn at one's back in a fight.

The rest of the group, including the Naugrim, were valiant warriors all, among them one young human policeman who had learned much in his sojourn in this time that was not his own, and Olorin, a peace loving Maia who had been catapulted from the peace of Aman into the violence of Arda Marred. Both were experiencing events that would hone them for their future and would give Olorin the grounding for a role in later events that would eventually shape the modern world of men.

On the other side, Sauron was the only mounted warrior. He had exchanged his dark robes for midnight black armour, crafted especially for him by Morgoth Bauglir's own armourers and of his own design. His black cloak billowed out around him and his dark light blanketed out any sunlight around him. This had a two-fold purpose; to cast his dark cold debilitating aura over those enemy near him and so deplete their strength and courage and to blot out the sun in order to allow his orc foot soldiers to function effectively in battle during the daylight hours. The only weapon he carried which was apparent to those watching was a massive and lethal looking black spiked mace.

In direct contrast to the calm, unsullied ranks of the Elves, the orcs were an undisciplined rabble kept in place by fear tactics. Plain and simple. In modern times Jim and his counterparts in the police would have used riot control methods on them that would have incapacitated them in no time at all. Unfortunately, however, tear gas grenades were in rather short supply in Middle Earth.

It had to be said that the small force of modern soldiers approaching the battle area even as the protagonists faced each other could have rounded the massive force of orcs up in a matter of minutes all by themselves, but that was not their remit. Not yet at least.

However even they, with all their force of arms, modern technology and expertise behind them, could not have prevailed against the might of Sauron, first lieutenant and battle commander of Morgoth. Only Eonwe could face him directly in battle and even as Sauron tried to bend his will upon the Herald, did the Valar silently and of one accord give their champion the strength added to his own to dismiss it.

Eonwe sat straight upon his horse and stared directly and without fear or flinching into the black helmed face of one of his own kind. Behind the dark helm Sauron's usually blue eyes flared red. He was now showing his true face of corruption and not the beautiful form he usually took.

For what seemed like ages the two groups faced each other. Nothing could be heard other than the rattle of a bridle ring or the stamp of a horses hoof on the dusty ground. Then Sauron dismounted, dismissed his mount and at some unseen signal from their commanders, the orcs began to clash their weapons together and a guttural chanting arose.

They lifted their crude banners high and were answered by Gildor and Erestor acting as heralds with the bright star covered banners of the High King of the Noldor.

Eonwe also dismounted as did the High King, the horses fled the battlefield to take shelter elsewhere until they were needed again.

"This is it." Jim muttered under his breath. He felt a familiar tightening in his stomach muscles.

Olorin grinned at him. "Certainly seems that way. Are you afraid?" It was a simple question, there was no judgment in it.

A wide grin split the young man's face. "Absopositively fucking terrified!" He said cheerfully. "I think I might have just peed my pants."

Olorin chuckled and would have glanced down had it not been for the fact that Eonwe had turned to them all and spoken.

"See to the orcs. Leave Sauron to me. I will brook _no_ interference in this." He glanced warningly at Glorfindel who grinned at him unabashed. "We are alike and equal in power and strength. I will not have _any_ of you die unnecessarily at his hands." His voice was grim. "I will try to draw him as far away as I can so that as much of the darkness he casts will be limited as possible.

Gil-galad opened his mouth to protest but closed it again after having thought better of it. "Orcs we can deal with." He said brightly and the rest of the company laughed. But he stared fixedly at Sauron and shivered slightly as if someone had just crossed over his grave.

The Naugrim leader spoke to his people in their own language and fingered his axe lovingly. His eyes were bright with anticipation. Celebrimbor stood beside them and looked down at the dwarf. "There would be no shame if you left us Master Glosur." He said softly. "This is not really your fight."

Glosur beamed up at the tall Elven Smith. "We know that laddie, but d'ya really think we would abandon ye all and yon pretty shiny man to death and destruction at the hands of these disgusting creatures?" He jerked his head over towards Eonwe who laughed when he heard the comment. Silvery laughter rippled around the assembled Elves."Besides my axe yearns to taste more orc blood."

Celebrimbor also burst into laughter. "Then I salute you Master Glosur and we will fight shoulder to shoulder...er... shoulder to hip." He corrected himself. Everyone laughed, including the Naugrim. Celebrimbor waved his wickedly curved elven sword at Sauron and his chanting orcs. ""We will fight and die together with honour!"

Glosur cast him an odd look. "Who said anything about dying? But if it is to be that way, then I shall do it by your side, friend Elf, with pleasure. Today is a _good_ day to die."

"I name you _all_ Elvellon...Elf-Friends and if this be an ending, then we shall make such an ending that will _never_ be forgotten and will be sung about in the feasting halls for all the ages to come." Declared Celebrimbor. The rest of the Elves and the Dwarves cheered loudly and Eonwe beamed his approval.

Tears sprang to the old dwarf's eyes. "Aye that we will laddie." He said softly. And thus began Celebrimbor's long friendship with dwarven-kind.

ooOoo

**Another battlefield not too far away...**

"They have joined in battle." Gary said quietly to Tulkas.

Tulkas cocked an eyebrow at his companion. "As we are _also_ about to do." He remarked. He glanced around the battlefield and sniffed the air like an eager spaniel about to go on the hunt for rabbits.

Gary nodded somberly. "Yes, but Eonwe is about to fight Sauron."

Tulkas chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Well, they are equally matched, but I think Eonwe has the measure of him."

"He's going to fight a fully armoured corrupt Maia wearing a set of Army combats and carrying my crappy sword."

Tulkas nodded sagely. "Aye, he was ever a one to fight when the odds were against him." His tone was unworried and rather pensive.

Gary's eyebrows hit his hairline. "That's it? That's _all_you have to say? Aren't you worried at all?"

Tulkas smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder gently. "He's a big boy now Gary. He can handle Sauron or _any_ of his ilk. I _know_because I _taught_ him. Eonwe, Gil-galad and his merry band will prevail. I sense that neither Sauron _nor_ Eonwe are meant to perish in that small melee. In the meantime..." He glanced over at where their own protagonists stood, also rattling shields and weapons and chanting their little hearts out. "We have our _own_ problems."

Gary sighed. "Yes we do." He grinned boyishly at Tulkas. "Let's have at them shall we?"

Tulkas threw his leonine head back and roared with laughter. "I thought you'd _never_ ask!" He shouted as he flung himself headlong towards the enemy who quailed, dropped their swords at the sight and tried to run in the opposite direction.

Gary shook his head in mock despair and followed the golden haired Vala into the fray, whirling Eonwe's huge sword above his head and shouting "Cry God, for Harry, England and St George!" at the top of his voice, while at the same time sending wishes of good luck to his alter ego.

Shakespeare's immortal line evinced some very strange looks from Ingwion and Finarfin who didn't understand one single word of the battle cry. Finarfin merely rolled his eyes heavenward and then rushed in behind him yelling his own battle cry, followed at a slightly more sober pace by Ingwion who was content to scythe his razor sharp sword through the oncoming horde of orcs as if they were made entirely from soft butter.

ooOoo

Kim watched in horror as the battle was joined with a resounding clash of arms. She stood with Alun Davies in the small enclave where the healers worked and they were guarded by both Vanyarin and Noldorin warriors, some from Maedhros' group, although Maedhros himself and Maglor were also in that mass of fighting and making a good account of themselves.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Elros chaffing at the bit as he watched the warriors whirling in amongst the orcs in their lethal dance of death. It was clear that he wanted to be down there where all the excitement was, but Maedhros had forbidden them to fight and both Gary and Tulkas had backed him up.

For his part Elrond made no complaint and was quietly moving about the healers tent helping them prepare for whatever injured would come their way, but Kim had seen the curved sword belted around his slim waist and she knew that he was more than capable of defending himself or anyone else for that matter.

Alun put his hands in the pockets of his coat and immediately encountered the sharp dagger given to him by Gary. He closed his eyes in distress as he remembered the instructions given to him by the young officer. "I leave her in your care. If things go pear shaped, get her out of here. If you can't get her out of here...then you know what to do. Don't let them get their hands on her or the child. I am trusting you to do this Alun. I cannot ask anyone else to do it. I wish I had a revolver to give you, but this is the best I can do. Make it clean and swift for her."

Alun could see the pain in Gary's eyes and his own heart almost broke too. He had nodded and taken the dagger. What _else_ was he to do?

ooOoo

Dutch and his troopers stayed where they were and watched the hand to hand fighting in astonishment and fascination.

"Those 'yer blokes are damn good fighters." Irish remarked in his thick Welsh accent as he leopard crawled over to where Dutch was lying flat and watching through his field goggles.

"Yup."

"Pretty boys too."

"Yup."

Irish reached over and pulled out a roll up cigarette from the top pocket of his jacket. Dutch stopped and pushed the goggles up over his forehead as his companion lit up and took a long drag off the cigarette.

"Those things'll kill you you know." He remarked.

"Well someone told my old gran that on her eightieth birthday and she'd been smoking since she were thirteen. Horrible cough she 'ad. She took fright and stopped the next day and hired herself a personal trainer." Irish took another drag and gazed pensively at the smoldering cigarette.

Dutch grinned to himself. "Did it work?" There had to be a punchline. With Irish there was _always_ a punchline.

"Well...no...not exactly. She died a month later and when they cut her open to see what had killed her, they found that her lungs were just fine, but her heart had burst under the strain of the exercise." He grinned. "Just shows you, it's not the cough that carries you off, but the coffin they carry you off in!"

Dutch sniggered and went back to his observation of the fighting. "That bloke in the combats fighting that big bugger in black. That _is_ this Major Matthews we're supposed to find isn't it?"

Irish perused the battle through his own goggles. "I would say so. Don't like the look of the bastard he's fightin' meself, but he's a dab hand with the sword. Must be an officer thing. It might just be me eyes or the dust, but he also has a glow about him. Very nimble on 'is feet too." He rolled over and squinted at Dutch. "So, how long we waiting here before we go down and pile in? The lads'll be itching to get their hands dirty. Billy's been sat there twitching under that there cloth with his sights on those horrible things for ages now. Trigger happy is what 'e is."

Billy grinned at them through the green and black cam cream and flipped off a rude gesture at him.

"Think you can take that one fighting with that blond bloke? The one that looks like a girl with all the hair?" Dutch asked him.

Billy bounced up and down with excitement. "Yep, serpently can, shall I give it a try?"

"Knock yourself out." Dutch chuckled. They sat back and watched him prepare to aim and fire.

ooOoo

Glorfindel was never quite sure what happened next. One minute he was doing the dance of death with the biggest orc he had ever seen, its snarling mouth filled with jagged teeth was snapping at him every time he thrust forward with his sword and the bad breath was enough to fell him where he stood. The next minute, just as he thrust at the creature who was wheezing with what sounded for all the world like laughter, it toppled back slowly, like a felled tree with a look of total and utter surprise on its face.

"Oh_nicely_ done there!" Gil-galad whizzed past him, eyes alight with battle and in hot pursuit of a tall thin orc who had long since abandoned his weapon and was trying to find his way out of the battlefield.

"Huh?" Glorfindel looked confused and stopped stabbing at the empty space where his opponent had been just seconds before. "I did not...I mean...I..." But the High King wasn't listening any more, he was bouncing after his quarry with great glee and cut him down just as Celeborn whirled around with his own sword to deal with him. They practically did the Elven version of a high five.

Glorfindel bent down and examined the huge orc commander. It didn't take _too_much looking to notice the small neat hole right in the middle of his forehead and when Glorfindel tentatively turned the head his stomach growled in disgust because there was no back of the head there, it was shattered away. He dropped the head quickly and wiped his hand on his already blood covered cloak.

As he stood there in confusion Olorin chanced to come near him. He took one look at the hole in the orc's forehead and knew _exactly_ what had happened. He turned around in the general directory of what would probably been the trajectory of the projectile and his sharp gaze caught the sight of a glint of what could be metal on the hillside among the bushes.

Glorfindel came to stand beside him and squinted in the same direction. "What do you see?" He asked curiously.

Olorin laughed softly. "I see the cavalry coming over the hill." And he prepared to evacuate the Chief's body even as the Chief's fea materialised in front of him.

The next minute all hell broke loose.

ooOoo


	51. Insanity is just a state of mind

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.**

[_after an exhausting shift in the OR_  
**Col Potter:** By the way, what war is this?  
**Hawkeye:** The latest war to end all wars.  
**- MASH **

**Chapter 51 – Insanity is just a state of mind **

"What in the name of the Valar is he _doing_?" Celeborn snapped the neck of an orc with ease and threw him to one side, even as he stopped and stared at the tall figure dressed in dappled green and beige clothing circling the black garbed figure of Sauron.

Cirdan's head turned in the direction that Celeborn was staring in and also watched in puzzlement as Eonwe circled Sauron slowly and gracefully, all the while swapping his sword fluidly from one hand to the other. He had given the assault rifle to Jim who now carried it slung across his back much in the same way that Olorin carried the other. Sauron, for his part, also turned in a tight circle on the spot, although the bulk of his armour meant that he was much slower than the lighter garbed Eonwe.

The Lord of the Teleri stroked his silver beard thoughtfully. "I know not. It would seem that he is goading Sauron. Perhaps he wants him to make the first strike? Mayhap it is some kind of Maia method of swordplay that we have not been privy to."

"It looks like a dance." Celeborn remarked. He eyed Sauron's massive mace, even now being lifted with ease by the massive strength of its owner. Sauron began to swing it in a steady arc in preparation for the staggering blow that he intended to land on his opponent. "Sauron is getting ready to make his blow."

Eonwe appeared to not take any notice of the huge spiked ball spinning his way. He kept his eyes on Sauron's face and kept moving and changing his weapon from left hand to right hand and back in the same fluid way he had been doing since the encounter began.

Both Cirdan and Celeborn cried out in alarm as the massive spike ball spun almost to Eonwe's face and a snarl of satisfaction escaped from behind the black helm. However even as Sauron braced himself for the impact and subsequent follow through, the mace thudded through empty space to the ground and the corrupt Maia started back in surprise. Moments later the solid impact of two black combat boots smacked him on the side of his head and set him to stagger drunkenly for a moment.

Celeborn and Cirdan watched in astonishment as Eonwe suddenly leaped into the air as if propelled by magic or, at the very least, a huge spring. As his body side-swept the heavily armoured Maia his feet slammed into him. He rolled as he hit the ground on the other side and landed lightly back on his feet. Almost immediately he began the circling and the swapping of the weapon from one hand to other again while Sauron reeled from the blow and tried desperately to regain his equilibrium.

Not an easy task when your opponent will not stand still and allow you hit them.

Celeborn chortled madly. "He is using Sauron's heavy armour and the weight of his weapon against him. He knows he cannot hope to best him in direct combat because of his lack of armour, but he has speed and agility on his side."

Sauron regained his balance and began to swing the mace again, but this time Eonwe didn't give him the chance to get the momentum of the weapon moving sufficiently to make any kind of lethal blow. Instead of lunging with the sword and trying to pierce any vulnerable part of the armoured body that he could find, he went at Sauron in a dead run and body slammed him. Sauron staggered back again and swayed heavily for a moment. Both Elves winced in sympathy as Eonwe visibly gritted his teeth through the pain in his chest and shoulders but carried on circling his adversary.

The weight of his armour pushed Sauron backwards down towards the ground and he only just managed to put an arm out to stop himself falling flat. The impact of taking his full body weight travelled up his arm up into his shoulder and Eonwe heard a grunt of pain from within the helm. He wasted no time in celebrating the fact that he had caused Sauron discomfort and ignored the protests of his own muscle and bone which had solidly impacted with the armour. He ran towards him again but this time he lashed out with his left leg catching Sauron square in his chest, he then turned slightly and smacked him a stinging blow on the side of his helm with the flat of Gary's sword.

Sauron fell sideways. His ears were ringing and his head was reverberating from the sword blow. His mace was too heavy to lift in any kind of damaging blow from a half prone position, but he did manage to land one mailed fist on Eonwe's hip, a rather erratic blow which nevertheless sent the Herald toppling to the ground in a heap.

The sword flew out of Eonwe's hand and travelled a few feet away into the bushes. Sauron let out a roar of triumph and staggered to his feet. He was already swinging his mace as he did so.

Cirdan and Celeborn watched aghast and held their breaths. If joint prayers to the Valar could have got the stunned Herald onto his feet then they were both praying as hard as they could.

The huge spiked ball swooped inexorably towards Eonwe and the two watching Elves groaned in concert and prepared to spring forward to try and distract the black Maia in an effort to deflect the blow. However, even as they did so, Eonwe rolled twice and the spiked ball once again thudded onto empty space. Fine dry dust spewed up into the air and the force of the blow was so great that when the enraged Sauron dragged the mace back to him there was a depression in the ground deep enough for a small child to sit in.

Eonwe continued rolling until he reached the clump of bushes where the sword lay. He then sprang up, picking the sword up at the same time, and resumed the circling of his opponent.

"Dear Eru. I do not think my heart can take too much of this." Cirdan whispered. "I am far too old for this kind of tension. My last nerve simply will not stand it."

Celeborn sniggered, but his own heart was hammering so hard it was threatening to jump out of his chest. "Perhaps we should pay more attention to the battle behind us than what _those_ two are doing." He remarked dryly. "I think they are evenly matched. Lord Eonwe's style of fighting is somewhat...unusual... to say the least, but it seems to be working."

Cirdan nodded and both Elves readily turned back into the fray behind them even as the three orcs who had been sneaking up on them almost reached them. For a split second, the two Elves and three orcs stood almost nose to nose with each other. It was a toss up as to who was more surprised, them or the orcs, but the surprise didn't last too long as, borne from long experience in battle, Cirdan immediately skewered the one in the front of him without preamble. He swiftly withdrew the weapon which made a satisfying squelch as it ripped through internal organs and muscle. He then swung it around almost horizontally to remove the head off the other orc's burly shoulders. Both orcs slumped bonelessly to the ground with a satisfying thud and black blood sprayed out wildly spattering anyone within earshot..

The second orc's head rolled over to Celeborn who had already dispatched his orc and was standing casually waiting for the elder Elf to deal efficiently with his opponents. He immediately put one foot out and stopped it from rolling further and then glanced around the battlefield for a target. He spied Erestor struggling with one skinny orc who was apparently trying to batter the Elf's head in with his iron shield.

Celeborn squinted speculatively and mentally calculated the distance between him and the skinny orc, then he booted the severed orc head with a superb shot worthy of a Manchester United (1) striker in the direction of Erestor's nemesis. The head travelled at almost jet propelled speed and hit the skinny little orc square on the side of his face.

The orc's cheekbone exploded in spray of blood and Erestor gulped in shock as the orc's yellow eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards. The iron shield clanked dully as it hit the ground and rolled away. Its stately progress before eventually coming to a halt smashed in the skull of a brutal looking warty grey skinned orc who was busy struggling to sit up after having regained consciousness under a heap of his dead or dying companions in arms a few feet away.

The young scout plunged his sword into his felled opponent to finish him off and saluted his thanks to Celeborn, who snorted with laughter and bowed in courteous reply.

"You_could_ have helped me you know. I had two to your one." Cirdan growled at him as they both headed to where Gil-galad was valiantly holding off at least four orcs. Celebrimbor and the dwarf Bausi were busy fighting their way to the High King from the other side. The young dwarf's beard and mail were dripping with orc blood but he was swinging his axe with the best of them and he was laughing so hard his eyes had practically disappeared into his head.

They skirted past Gildor Inglorion who appeared to have temporarily mislaid his weapon and was busy sitting on an orc commander's chest while happily pounding its head in with the High King's star covered banner. He paused briefly to wave cheerfully at the two Elf lords, but resumed his determined pounding when the orc tried to drunkenly raise his head.

It suddenly occurred to Cirdan that the battle was rapidly assuming all the characteristics of a fine farce.

"You looked as though you were enjoying yourself so much I did not want to spoil your fun." Celeborn countered cheerfully. "Besides, I think I might have invented a new game played with round objects when we manage to find some spare time. It could be lots of fun. Especially if we had two opposing teams pitted against one another. Come on old man, let us go and kill some more orcs. I haven't enjoyed myself as much as this since...well...the last time."

Cirdan rolled his eyes in disgust. "I'll give you old man...you..._whippersnapper_..you. I'll have you know that I was killing orcs long before you were even a twinkle in your ada's eye." He said in exasperation, although he was also grinning at the same time. "With friends like you lot I am not sure that I _need_ enemies!"

ooOoo

Eonwe couldn't afford to take notice of the chaos around him. He knew that although he was matched in strength and power to Sauron, the fact that he had no armour of any kind would work against him in hand to hand combat. He had to use Sauron's armour against him and use the abilities gained in a time yet to come in order to defeat the corrupt Maia. For the first time since he had come to Middle Earth in the form of his future identity, he tapped into the memories and thoughts of his future self and found much of interest and of use there.

As a warrior he had of course learned and trained others in a form of unarmed combat, but these moves that were filtering into his consciousness even as he faced Sauron were extraordinary. Apparently Gary had been taught by experts in something called martial arts. More specifically Taekwondo, and martial they were. In his rapid overview of Gary's training while he circled Sauron he discovered that Taekwondo training included a system of blocks, punches, and open-handed strikes and also various take-downs or sweeps, throws and joint locks. However the aspect that fascinated him the most was the fact that the art in general emphasized kicks thrown from a mobile stance, using the leg's greater reach and power to disable the opponent from a distance.

All of these combined with meditation and relaxation exercises combined with a focus on mental and ethical discipline, justice, etiquette, respect, and self-confidence made for a discipline that should be able to fell an opponent of much larger size without too much injury.

Now all Eonwe had to do was put it into practice. Easier said than done.

_Focus. Centre yourself. Clear your mind. Ignore everything around you._ Gary's voice sounded in the back of his mind. _He is slower than you and he expects you to fight hand to hand with him and so you shall, only not quite in the way he expects you to. Combine everything you have learned in the past with what you learn in the future._

Eonwe drew a deep breath and looked inward. He concentrated on his spiritual core and was hardly aware that his body still moved around Sauron. As he did so he felt a combined spiritual strength lifting him up and he knew that those he served had not deserted him.

_Wait for your opening and then strike when he is not expecting it._

The huge spiked ball hurtled towards him. He closed his eyes and launched himself into the air, slamming both of his feet into the side of Sauron's helm as he flew past him, then he rolled once and sprang lightly onto the balls of his feet.

_By George I think he's got it! _He could hear Gary's laughter bouncing around his mind and smiled slightly.

ooOoo

"He's good." Dutch remarked to no-one in particular. "Nice moves, bit of Taekwando in there methinks, along with the nifty swordplay. Must get him to show me a few of them when the dust settles."

Irish peered at the two figures doing their dance of death on the periphery of the battlefield. "Poetry in motion you might say." He cocked an eye at Dutch. "So, you dancin'?"

"You askin'?"

"I'm askin'."

Dutch uncurled from his prone position. "In that case, I am happy to accept your kind invitation, sir."

He held out his arm and Irish took it with a little mock curtsey. With weapons in hand they minced off down the slope causing muffled sniggers to erupt among the other troopers. Halfway down they broke into a dead and determined run and opened fire, duly followed by the rest of the snickering troop, with the exception of Billy the sniper who happily was picking orcs off left, right and centre from his vantage point on the hill and, of course, Rob Norman who sat in the bushes wishing he was somewhere...anywhere...else but with these absolute madmen.

"They're mad. They're all abso-fucking-lutely barking mad." Rob moaned with his head in his hands while Billy whooped with delight every time he squeezed the trigger and saw an orc fall.

ooOoo

Olorin closed his eyes and prepared to leave Chief's body, but before he could do it the Chief's fea squeezed back in.

"You have to let _me_ out first." Olorin said patiently.

"No time mate. Things are going down." Chief Knowles said cheerfully. "You'll have to share the body with me until this is over."

"Who are you talking to?" Asked a very puzzled Glorfindel.

"Never mind. It's a bit complicated." Said Olorin and Chief Knowles a little testily and at the same time.

Glorfindel stared into the Chief's eyes. "_Olorin?_ Is that _you_ in there?"

Both Olorin and Chief Knowles were spared having to answer as five figures dressed entirely in black and wearing ski masks hurtled down the slope firing at will and laughing their heads off.

"What in the name of the Valar..." Gil-galad stopped fighting and stared open-mouthed as the remaining orcs dropped dead around him one by one as if by magic. The Elves and Dwarves watched in utter astonishment as the newcomers disposed of the remaining orcs rapidly and efficiently.

When the dust had settled one of the newcomers came up to Gil-galad and saluted. "Sergeant van Breda, 22 SAS Regiment, British Army sir. Do I have the honour of addressing the High King..." He stopped, took a small black covered notebook out of his pocket and examined it for a second. "...er...Gil-galad?" He pulled his ski mask off, smiled disarmingly and offered his hand to the High King.

All Gil-galad could do was nod his head up and down speechlessly.

ooOoo

Sauron was confused, to say the least. As soon as he staggered to his feet from the last kick or blow, another swift succession of kicks and punches sent him back down on the ground. So far he hadn't even managed to get one hit in with the mace. Something or someone of great power was lending strength to the Herald, either that or he had developed a seriously formidable new fighting technique since the last time Sauron had watched him train and fight with the Vala Tulkas.

_Get out of there. Discard your corporeal body and return to Angband._ Morgoth's order held a tone of distinct disgust and finality. _He is playing with you and I need you here, not dead at Eonwe's feet. There can be no mileage gained from you continuing this fight. Your orcs are all dead and the weapon is lost to us, we must recoup our losses at another time. _

For the first time in his long existence Sauron felt something akin to real frustration. _But..I..._

_OBEY ME!_

Pieces of armour crumpled abruptly to the ground and the black cloak settled over all like a shroud. Eonwe stepped back quickly as he realised that his adversary was no longer there. He had fled his corporeal form and gone crawling back to his master with his tail between his legs. The Herald's lip curled in utter contempt and he sent a thought message to the fleeing Maia.

_This is NOT over Sauron, you will kneel to me and ask for leniency before the end. _

ooOoo

(1) Manchester United, a Premiership League British football/soccer team.


	52. This was a great war till you showed up

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.**

**Hawkeye:** I believe my life is about to pass before my eyes.  
**Sherman Potter:** Let me know when it does. I love a parade.  
**Hawkeye:** Even short ones?  
**- MASH **

**Chapter 52 – This was a great war till you showed up**

"What troubles you?"

Eonwe looked up. After the battle with Sauron he had sunk to his haunches on the dusty ground, clutching the sword limply in his hand. He was utterly spent, something which should not have been the case with the mightiest in arms in all of Arda. He, the swiftest among the stars, brought down by a bout of fisticuffs with one who had never been his equal as a warrior? What was wrong with him? Why had he _needed_ to use the method of fighting learned by his future self in another time? He should have been able to overcome Sauron even without wearing armour and carrying his mighty sword.

He felt the closest to weeping that he had ever been since Arien had chosen another.

Celeborn knelt down beside him. Even amongst the jubilation of beating Sauron and his orcs off and the strangeness of the newcomers he had seen the desolate figure with drooping shoulders on the periphery of the battlefield. He felt an immense pity for the Herald.

_The duality of his current situation drains him._ Galadriel's voice had whispered softly into his mind as he stood watching the hunched figure of the Herald. _Go to him Celeborn, he needs counsel of some kind._

_Counsel?_ Celeborn was astounded. _Of what counsel can I be to someone like him? He is Maia my love, so far above me in strength, knowledge, wisdom and power. What counsel can I offer that would help one such as he?_

_Beloved, he is rent in two and the longer he remains in the persona of his future self, he loses, while his future self gains. He must go back to the Host or he will lose himself entirely. This should never have been asked of him. He has no one to hold him in the night or give loving counsel when he needs it and comfort. She will return to her own time and take his child with her. He will suffer long yeni of parting and has no guarantee that he will ever see her or his child again._ Galadriel's voice was filled with compassion. _Even if you do not do it for his sake, then do it for ours._ _We need him my love. We need the Host of the Valar to rid us of Morgoth and he is their greatest strength._

Eonwe stared down at the earth in despair, the sword dropped from his hand and hit the ground with a dull thump. "I am not myself." He whispered in a broken voice that reached into Celeborn's heart and wrung it with pity. "I feel...depleted and with each passing hour I become weaker. I do not know what is wrong with me."

"Do you not then?" Asked Celeborn softly. "Then perhaps Lord of the Maia, you do not see what I and others are seeing."

Eonwe looked back up at him in query. "I do not...understand your meaning."

Celeborn's smile was full of the compassion that had been encouraged in him by his spouse. "The longer you remain here with us, the longer you tarry in this persona, the weaker you become. You are becoming mortal, with all the inherent weaknesses of the secondborn Eonwe and your future self becomes stronger and more decisive, more Maia."

Eonwe gave a hollow laugh. "Perhaps that would be best for all. For he will be the sum of us both with all of the knowledge of future times and technology to ease the battles to come."

"You are missing the point my Lord." Celeborn sounded impatient. "As_much_ as your future self has learned from this...technology, and as wondrous as it is, he comes to us incomplete. His memories of what he was...what _you_ were and are...were taken away before he arrived into the future time of Ennorath. There is _much_ he will have remembered it is true, but much more that will take time to recover. This is time _we_ do not have. Come now, he would be the first to remind you of this. The Valar took a chance by allowing you to take his place even temporarily for the purpose of finding the weapons and now it is time to return to who you truly are. Take what Garee has taught you of his time and use it well and wisely. Do not leave him in the middle of the great war in the position of only having what he has learned as mortal man and struggling to recall that which is forgotten."

He stood up and held out his hand. Eonwe gazed up at him. Dusk was beginning to fall, but the last golden rays of Arien lit the silver Elf-lord up from behind and gave him a crown of light. He blinked as the face of his lord Manwe Sulimo momentarily imprinted itself over the Elf's stern but handsome features. The tears that trembled on his long dark lashes tumbled down his dirty cheeks, leaving a clean path and he bowed his head in supplication.

"My Lord Manwe...father." He whispered. "Help me, I am lost."

A gentle hand briefly touched the dusty golden brown hair. "Then take my hand my child and I will lead you."

Eonwe reached up blindly and grasped the hand offered to him. He was pulled to his feet and drawn into strong arms. "I will _always_ be there to help you my son." Eonwe could feel the strength flowing back into him through the embrace and the soft words of love and encouragement. He leaned against the chest and wept freely. "Lead them all back to the Host Eonwe. Take up your rightful place and do what you know you _must_ do. If Eru wills it, you _will _see her and the child again. You must trust in him, as you have always done."

Eonwe nodded and after a few moments drew away from the embrace, letting his arms fall by his side even as he gathered his strength and conviction back up. As he blinked away the tears and dried them with his sleeve he realised that Manwe had gone and he was looking into the kind but astonished eyes of Celeborn once again. "Thank you." He said quietly. "It cannot have been easy to surrender yourself to the Elder King."

Celeborn shook his head in wonder. "I have never experienced _anything_ quite like that before. I was always taught that Lord Manwe never left Taniquetil and would not till the End of Days." His voice was hushed with awe.

The Herald managed a wry smile. "He does not and did not this time. He used his power of farsight combined with that of the blessed Lady Varda to project himself into you as the vessel."

"Then the honour is mine." Celeborn bowed. He tore the cleanest piece of his gore spattered cloak that he could find and handed it to the Herald with a broad smile. "You might want to clean your face. We cannot have you riding back to the Host looking like a grubby urchin can we?"

Eonwe laughed through his tears and took the cloth which he moistened with his tongue before scrubbing at his cheeks. "Better?"

"Oh_much_ better." Celeborn chuckled, but he leaned over and pointed at a spot under Eonwe's eye. "You have missed a bit, just there." He glanced briefly over to where one of the SAS soldiers was marching determinedly over to them followed by the High King, The Chief and Cirdan. "You might want to get rid of that before this fellow starts saluting you and asking if you are the Major Matthews he's been sent to find."

"Indeed." Murmured the Herald and then burst into laughter.

Celeborn joined in the laughter. "Whatever would he think of us?" He winked at Eonwe who laughed even harder.

Sergeant van Breda reached where Eonwe and Celeborn were standing. He came to attention and saluted smartly. Everyone watched in fascination as the Herald also came to attention and returned the compliment. "Major Matthews sir?"

"Yes, 569457 Matthews, Major, Her Britannic Majesty's Armed Forces." Eonwe's reply was brief and to the point.

The Sergeant acknowledged the name, rank and number with a grin. "Thank you for that sir, I have orders from the GOC of 4 Div to bring you all home Sir." The sergeant's face and tone were impassive.

"General Sheldon?" Eonwe asked with a small smile. "Sergeant...?"

"Van Breda sir, Sergeant van Breda, 22 SAS Regiment and yes, General Sheldon sent us to fetch you all back. He said to tell you sir, that if we came back _withou_t all of you to not bother coming back. Not sure he meant that really though."

Eonwe and Chief Knowles exchanged a wry glance with each other. "Oh I am_absolutely_ sure he _did_ mean it Sergeant, knowing General Sheldon." Eonwe replied ruefully. " However we do have a minor problem in that we are not all in the same place."

"Yes sir, Chief and the High King here did explain. So since we can't contact them to bring them here, might I suggest that we go to them? And...is Inspector Davies actually _with_ Sergeant Freeman sir?"

Eonwe's dark blue eyes crinkled with laughter. "Quite so sergeant. We will go to _them_." He swept a glance around at Gil-galad and his merry men. "_All_ of us, and yes, Alun Davies is currently with Sergeant Freeman, but we have a great dealt to discuss and do before _anyone_ goes back through the portal."

"My orders are to place myself and my men at your disposal Major." The SAS sergeant felt a strange desire to bow sweep over him which he only managed to stop at the last minute. He gazed into the magnetic dark blue eyes of the Major and realised that this was a man who he would willingly follow into battle. Then he mentally slapped himself for having such a weird thought.

"Thank you Sergeant, do you by any chance have a qualified medic with you?"

The Sergeant grinned. "I do indeed sir, with a full supply pack. I also have a scientist with me. They're both up on the ridge up there." He jerked a thumb over to where two figures stood waiting on the slope.

"Get them down here then would you Sergeant?" Eonwe's tone was pleasant and firm, the tone of someone long used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question. "I suspect that your medic will be able to help considerably with the wounded." He nodded at the Sergeant, started to walk way and then came to a dead halt as he realised what the soldier had said. "And... a _scientist_ did you say?"

"Yes Sir. Clever bloke, like all those boffins are. He made the portal stable and made it possible for us to come through. Name of Dr Rob Norman."

Eonwe looked thoughtful. "Did he indeed? Bring them both down Sergeant." He dismissed the Sergeant with another nod then turned to Gil-galad. "Are there many dead or wounded Ereinion?"

"Not as many as there _would_ have been had those men not interfered. We were a little outnumbered. Two dead and ten wounded, one of the dwarves, young Bausi, seriously." Gil-galad said sadly as they walked towards where Glorfindel, Gildor and Erestor were organising the dead and wounded helped by some of the dwarves.

Eonwe laid a hand on Gil-galad's arm. "I am truly sorry to have brought you to this Ereinion." He said softly. "My orders from the Valar were to minimise your part in this battle. They viewed it as a matter between them and Morgoth." Gil-galad started back from him with an offended and outraged expression, but the Herald stopped him before he could launch into the passionate 'it's our land, not yours' argument. "I _know_ now that this was not the right decision to make and you will _all_ be needed before the end, however you are also tired from long years of fighting and protecting your people from this enemy. Once this is over and they are all returned to their own time, I will ask you to take your people and go back to Balar. Help to co-ordinate the many refugees who will flee to the north, recharge your warriors and find others from those around who wish to fight, but be ready, for I _shall_ call upon you and I will need you to be fresh and able."

Gil-galad stared deeply into the Herald's eyes but saw nothing other than honesty and truth in them. He nodded wearily. "If that is what you wish my Lord. I confess that we _are_ weary from the constant skirmishes and we do need to train others to take the place of those lost. Our armourers also need to repair armour and weapons and we desperately need to re-supply."

"Then do it and also prepare a place of safety for those who will need it. The Lady Artanis labours hard on this behalf, but even she, tireless and strong though she is, cannot do it alone." Eonwe said softly. "For that place of safety will be sorely needed at the end. This battle and the defeat of the enemy will not be without consequences. Our presence here has started changes in the very core of Ennorath that _cannot_ be halted."

ooOoo

**The Halls of Manwe, Oiolosse, Aman**

Manwe sank back into one of the low couches with his eyes closed and shuddered slightly. He opened them again and found his wife gazing at him, her face a mask of concern.

"Well..." He finally managed to say. "I do not want to have to do _that_ too often. Lord Celeborn has a _most _dynamic personality. He resisted me quite considerably. Not that I blame him. It cannot be a pleasant experience being possessed from afar."

"Hah!" Ulmo snorted from the other side of the room where he had slumped down on another couch, long legs splayed out in front of him. "Rumour has it that his lady wife _frequently_ possesses him from afar."

Both Manwe and Varda looked shocked. "Ulmo!" Varda admonished the Lord of the Waters. "What a thing to say!"

Ulmo grinned up at the Maia handmaiden Ilmare, sister of Eonwe, as she held out a tray with goblets of the light, sparkling peach wine from the Vineyards belonging to King Olwe. Her shoulders were shaking with the effort of trying not to giggle out loud.

Ulmo was unabashed. "You know fine well what my meaning was. Your shock is nothing more than a reflection of your own dubious nasty little thoughts. I meant her farspeaking habit of course. Not at all sure what _you _two were referring to."

"Oh of _course_ not." Manwe managed stop himself from rolling his eyes in a most un-Valar like manner. "We all know _you_ are as pure as the un-driven snow."

Varda snorted with laughter but made no comment. She smiled at her handmaiden in dismissal. "Thank you Ilmare." Ilmare laughed softly and went back to her position behind her lady.

Ulmo laughed and winked at the Maia woman who folded her hands demurely in front of her and tried to avoid Ulmo's eye in vain. "Yes _thank_ you Ilmare and how about tonight, usual place behind the kitchens?"

Ilmare did roll her eyes at that. "You never give up my Lord do you?"

But she was smiling, as were Manwe and Varda. This was a usual conversation between Ilmare and Ulmo and had been going on for as long as anyone could remember. It usually infuriated Eonwe who would grit his teeth whenever they went into their 'act' as Olorin termed it, because he felt it belittled his sister, no matter how many times she gently told him that she didn't mind and that it was just Lord Ulmo's joking way.

"Of_course_ not." Boomed Ulmo. "My mother always said that when you had something good you should _never_ lose it or give up on it!"

Aule snorted and swatted his fellow Valar over the back of his head with a rolled up scroll. "You never _had_ a mother you ancient fraud, _none_ of us did. I would like to meet any woman who was responsible for giving birth to you, you lecherous old buzzard you. Once of these days Eonwe is going to call you out over your manhandling of Ilmare, for which I would not blame him, and _then_ what would you do?"

"The oceans are _very_ deep." Ulmo said cryptically. He didn't enlighten his fellow Valar as to whether that meant he was considering hiding from a enraged Eonwe in the deepest part or whether he was planning to drown the Herald if he tried to take issue with the Lord of the Waters over his sister's honour. "Anyway, she likes it. She always laughs." He protested.

Namo shook his head despairingly. "And what would you do if she took you up on it one romantic, starry night?"

Ulmo considered the notion. "I am not sure really, because then Eonwe would truly be baying for my blood. I think I might just run away to sea. Or I would come to the Halls and lose myself in the many rooms in your mansion. Eonwe has an enormous sword, the biggest in Aman."

The Valar tried to ignore the uncontrollable, badly concealed sniggers from the Maia who were in attendance in Oiolosse.

Namo glanced over at his wife. "Remind me to change the locks when we get back will you?" She quietly snickered to herself.

Manwe sighed deeply. "I do hope that didn't mean what it sounded like Ulmo."

"_What_?" Ulmo produced an air of innocent affront. "What did I say? I just said he had a big sword. And a very strong and terrifying sword arm to go with it. Anyway, onto more important matters. What are we going to do about that wretched girl of his and his child? She is going swanning off into the future and we will have Eonwe mooning around for yeni after her. We will have to keep him occupied you know. Does Eru intend for them to be together eventually or what?"

They all looked at Namo who immediately took an defensive stance. "Why are you all looking at me? Manwe knows as much about the future as I do. Why are you always picking on me?"

Orome who had added nothing to the conversation so far, snorted in derision. "Because it is _your_ job? D'uh... Lord of Death and Destiny, Doomsman of the Valar anyone?"

"Yes, well... " Namo's bottom lip jutted out stubbornly. "That may well be, only I am not supposed to just blurt it all out you know. Doom and destiny has to be spoken at the right time, with the right surrounding ambiance. Loose lips sink ships and all that."

Ulmo jumped up to his feet and strode over to where Namo was sitting. He drew himself up to his considerable height and loomed over the Lord of Mandos. "What in the name of _all _that is holy is _that _supposed to mean? Loose lips sink ships? Horse hockey!"

"How should I know?" Namo said crossly. "It just sort of jumped into my mind, and it sounded good."

Ulmo grinned ferally at him. He prodded Namo on the chest. "I happen to respect and _like_ young Eonwe. Fine fellow, does our bidding without complaint, despite some of the cock-a-mamie crap we ask him to do." He prodded Namo again. "I do _not_ want us to keep him hanging around for the next few ages not knowing whether he will ever see the woman he loves or meet his daughter. Hasn't he gone through enough with that chit Arien? So I suggest that someone speaks to Eru and damn well finds out."

This time all the Valar looked at Manwe, who sank deeper into the blue cushions. "I can ask, but it is still Namo's job to pronounce any doom upon them and they should both really be here for it to be effective."

"Monkey muffins!" Exploded Ulmo. "That's nothing but a lot of cow cookies in my view. In the name of Carrie's Corset, I am not asking for a doom-saying. I am just asking for some honesty for the lad. We owe him that at least. Give him something to keep on carrying on for Eru's sake. He is just about to fight, is fighting, a damn horrific war on our behalf. We _owe_ him." He repeated.

"I agree." Irmo's quiet voice cut through the atmosphere. He smiled at Manwe. "We cannot expect Eonwe to keep giving without receiving in return. The young woman _must_ return to her own time, that we all know, for her sake and the child's. As long as she is there in Arda Marred she is both in danger and a danger to the Host's mission there. If she were to be captured along with their child, what a bargaining chip Morgoth would have. She must go back, he must remain and because of that we must give him some small hope to cling to. His concentration on his mission will not be complete if he is thinking and worrying about her and his child." Murmurs of agreement rippled around the room.

Manwe sighed again and rose to his feet. "Yes, you are right of course. I should take counsel with Eru." He smiled wanly around at the rest of the Valar. "I will do my best, but I cannot promise anything."

He unclothed himself of flesh and departed for his favourite place of communion with Iluvator.

Ulmo grunted in satisfaction and threw himself back down on his couch. "Well... good. So. Now that you have managed to drag me here kicking and screaming far from my own halls under the oceans, what's for dinner?"

ooOoo


	53. The Two of Us

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.**

Apologies for the delay in posting another chapter, but I have been feeling rather unwell and then I had a worrying time last week after hearing that my 85 year old father wasn't well in South Africa.

"Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will  
stir. Open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and  
we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest  
moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts  
sometimes more than we can bear. If we can live without passion, maybe we'd know  
some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank.  
Without passion, we'd be truly dead."**- Angelus, Buffy the Vampire Slayer**

**Chapter 52 – The Two of Us**

**The Camp of the Host of the Valar**

"What is your business here?"

The abrupt question took the Maia Curunir completely by surprise and annoyed him more than a little bit. He was a Maia of Aule and not used to being questioned by Eldar, even those with grim, cold eyes. But then these Elves were part of the group who served with the Kinslayers. They did not hold beings like the Maiar in great awe, unlike the Vanyar and those who had remained behind on Aman when Feanor raged across the countryside and then crossed the sea to Ennorath.

Curunir swallowed back his immediate desire to show this Elf just what a Maia actually was and brought forth the voice whose honeyed dulcet tones would in later ages lull those of weaker mental capacities into a false sense of peace and security. He smiled at the Elf who stood solidly in front of the tent where Kim and Alun Davies sat. Or rather he stretched his lips into something approaching a stiff smile. 

It had no effect on the impassive warrior who made no attempt to respond in kind.

"I am Curunir, Maia of Aule and currently attached to Lord Eonwe, Commander in Chief of the Host and his staff here in Beleriand..." He began, although he had a shrewd suspicion that this warrior knew exactly who and what he was.

The warrior stared at the Maia with narrowed eyes and confirmed the suspicion. "I am _aware_ of _who_ you are Lord Curunir. I asked you what your business was in this place." His tone was even, but a slightly shocked Curunir could plainly see that this particular Elf was unimpressed with his position and stature within the Host.

"I had thought to speak with the Lady within." He explained and the stiff smile trembled a little with disuse as he attempted to widen it further.

The warrior remained po-faced apart from a gleam of grim amusement that lurked in the back of his eyes. "For what purpose?"

Curunir was completely taken aback. This elf... this Feanorian whelp was actually _questioning_ his purpose. He was so shocked that he took a step back. The anger that was constantly bubbling underneath the surface seeped out. "How _dare_ you question me." He hissed. "I am a Maia of Aule, I wish to speak to the mortal woman. Do you seek to countermand the request of one who has the ear of the Valar?"

The warrior remained unimpressed. He was one of those who had travelled across the sea on ships stolen from the Teleri. He had seen the Light of the Two Trees and he had also seen it snuffed out until darkness and confusion covered Aman. He had spilled the blood of his innocent Teleri kin and had been ordered by his Lord's son, Maedhros to defend the Lady Kim and her companion to the death. To him, that was as good as any order given by Feanor himself. 

So it was that instead of standing aside to let the Maia sweep through, he laughed. It was a soft and deadly sound which actually sent a chill of ice up Curunir's spine, a completely new sensation for him and one that he did not like at all. 

The warrior bent forward so that his nose almost touched the Maia's long hooked appendage.

"I do not serve the Valar." He said softly but there was steel underlying the softness. "I served the household of my Lord Feanor who did not hold _any_ of you in awe and now I serve that of his sons, the Lords Maedhros and Maglor. My loyalty and allegiance is to them and them alone. My orders are that the Lady and her companion are _not_ to be disturbed. By anyone, up to and including you. Should you wish to speak to her, then I suggest you await my Lord's return from the battlefield and make your application to him directly."

Curunir's anger knew no bounds, but he also was fully aware that Eonwe had issued strict instructions prohibiting the use of any inherent Maiar abilities within the camp. His skin crawled with fury and the desire to lash out hovered dangerously just below the surface. The Maia struggled for control which he eventually achieved and, breathing hard, he took a step back, gritted his teeth and glared at the warrior who stared back at him with those unconcerned and implacable stormy grey eyes.

"I will speak with Lord Eonwe about this." He finally managed to snarl out.

The warrior watched the apoplectic workings of the Maia's face with undisguised amusement. He shrugged nonchalantly. An act which made Curunir ache to slap him. "Do so by all means." He said with a thin smile. "It is not my concern. My only concern is to obey the orders of my commander, nothing more."

A seething Curunir drew himself up to his full, not inconsiderable, height and then swept away, robes swirling around him majestically.

"Now _there_ goes a man scorned if ever I saw one."

The warrior turned to find the Lady's companion, Alun, standing slightly behind him. He nodded. "Yes indeed, not someone to turn one's back on. However I have my orders and I owe no allegiance to the likes of him."

Alun watched the tall figure disappear among the brightly coloured tents and pavilions. "I imagine he would make quite a bad enemy."

"Aye indeed. That is the _only_ thing anyone can say about him, since he has more enemies than he does friends among the Host." The warrior chuckled grimly.

Alun's eyes gleamed in interest. "Does he now and why would that be?" He sat down on a large nearby tree stump. Although his command of the Elven language was quite limited, he was beginning to be exceedingly grateful for the Valar's help in understanding the basics of what people around him were saying. Without it he would have been lost.

The warrior laughed again. "It would take too long to tell you."

The policeman also laughed. "The day's battle is still young my friend. I imagine we have that long at least." He settled himself more comfortably. "Tell me about this... Curunir or whatever he calls himself."

ooOoo

**The Camp of Ereinion Gil-galad, somewhere in Beleriand**

The pace that the Herald of Manwe set in his desire to return to the Host was fierce. He was aware that at one point the SAS troopers had loped off on their own and he didn't worry about that. He had briefed them the night before in an official Orders Group, done modern British Military style with the bemused High King and his equally bemused Elven commanders in attendance. 

Sergeant Dutch van Breda made no notes during the briefing. He asked to look at maps of the area and Eonwe relayed his request more fluently to the High King. Glorfindel stood with the sergeant as he and the other troopers pored over the maps. The Elf-lord traced the route to the Host and explained as best he could the terrain and the kind of enemy presence that could be there.

"They will not ride with us." Cirdan commented to Eonwe as he watched Glorfindel and the modern soldiers examining the maps.

Eonwe shook his head. "No. They will set their own pace. It is their way. They may even arrive before us, but Gary and Lord Tulkas are expecting them."

"How is this so?" Cirdan looked at the soldiers with an expression of comical disbelief on his face. "They have no mounts and they are further hampered by not knowing where they are going."

Eonwe chuckled. "Trust me Lord Cirdan, by the time they have finished, they will know exactly where they are and where they are heading. They need no mounts. They are trained in long fast marches."

"It's called yomping." The Chief/Olorin interjected cheerfully. "A phrase coined by my old unit, the Marine Commandos. I did a bit of yomping in my time." His voice sounded almost wistful.

The Herald stood up and stretched his long legs. Erestor moved in quietly, shifted the parchments off the table and began to set it with food and drink, ably assisted by Gildor. 

"I am sure you have a yomp left in you somewhere old man." Teased the Herald. "You didn't do so badly on the way here from the Forest of Dean."

Everyone laughed and Erestor hid a grin as he began to ladle hot vegetable stew out of a large pot into small earthenware bowls. Gildor broke a couple of small dark flat Dwarven loaves into pieces, the contribution of Glosur and his people to the meal.

"Are you kidding me?" Jim quipped. "He whined all the way." 

The Chief raised his eyebrows and slapped him over the head with a rolled up parchment. "When was the last time that the Fuzz [1 yomped anywhere? Unless it was home for scran [2 in front of the fire and the telly."

Jim's eyes gleamed greedily as the smell of the stew wafted under his nose. "And talking about scran, that smells great. I'm so hungry I could eat a scabby horse between two stained mattresses."

Eonwe laughed. "Then by all means my young friend, eat your fill. I advise all to do the same. We have many leagues of travel before us before we reach the Host and many possible interruptions along the way."

He, however, did not eat straightaway. The Chief/Olorin looked up sharply and saw his fellow Maia's eyes silver over as he stared out into the night and he knew that Eonwe was in communication with Manwe. He leaned over to the table, filled a bowl with the stew and placed another bowl over it with some bread on the top. Later, he would ensure that the Herald took his own advice. As a Maia it was often easy to forget that they needed to see to the fleshly needs of an incarnate form and it had been a while since Eonwe last partook of any form of nourishment other than water.

Ereinion Gil-Galad glanced up at the figure of the tall Maia, outlined against the night sky and against the light from the stars. There seemed to be a shimmering golden aura all around him. He realised that the Maia muted his natural light among lesser beings but found himself wondering how much more fiercely beautiful and incandescent could any being look. 

After a long while he felt the ageless gaze, with depths of wisdom that appeared to know no bounds, rest on him and looked up, but found that he could not bear the intensity of the light in the Herald's eyes; fresh, as they were, from communication with the Valar. He winced and looked away, wiping stinging tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

He felt a mind touch... a gentle request to be allowed to communicate through mind only. For a moment Ereinion panicked. Many of the Eldar had this mind-speak ability although most would never have dreamed of using it since it was an unforgivable intrusion. He had noticed though that the Maia seemed to use it regularly with those of his kind, almost as a normal form of communication.

The touch came again and with it a warm reassurance that the Herald would go no further than opening a channel of communication. Ereinion sighed deeply and opened his mind.

_The light that you see child is many times muted. _The Herald's voice was soft but authoritative, the sound of a teacher gently guiding a child. _Here in Arda Marred, our light cannot shine the way it does in the Blessed Realm. It would be too painful for any of you to bear. In any event, my incarnate form could not contain my true essence un-muted. Only there, in the light of Eru and the Valar whom I serve, will you see me as I truly am and be able to bear it. Even then it is not our true being. That cannot be seen by any other than our own kind, the One and the Valar. _

_I am not a child. _Ereinion could hear the childishness in his comment and winced a little. He was the High King and should behave with maturity.

Eonwe's rich laughter echoed in his mind. I_ know you are not a child in your experience little one and that you have all had to live through these trials is a source of great sorrow for us all on Aman. This was not the intention of the Valar who only ever wished to offer their protection. However to us you are as children. Yet it is as children that you are a constant delight to us. We treasure each and every one of you._

_Well some did not wish to live under the constant protection and under the eye of the Valar. _Ereinion spoke testily._ They wished to make their own experiences and build their own lives. It was just unfortunate that Morgoth had the same idea. I'm not saying that Feanor went about it the right way but... many of the Eldar obviously felt the same way._

There was a brief silence, as though Eonwe was thinking about what had been said, then he finally spoke, but the tone of voice was different, as if someone else was speaking through the Herald. 

_Child we regret many things that we have done and many other things we have left undone. We never intended to become so alienated from the Noldor and will do our utmost to redress those wrongs. We are here now and you should know that, with some exceptions, all of the Eldar presently residing in Arda Marred will be allowed to come home to the Blessed Realm once this War is fought and won, but the choice will ultimately be yours. _

Ereinion's head jerked up in shock and he would have spoken out loud except for Eonwe's finger pressed against his lips and a slight shake of the Maia's head. He spoke again in the High King's mind. 

_These are things that shall not be spoken of out loud Ereinion Gil-galad. This is not yet the time. But know this, the two Peredhil are now at my camp, still under the protection of Maedhros and Maglor. But now their paths must separate. The Feanorians' doom will and must carry on until the bitter end; and bitter it may well be for them unless they decide on another course of action than to continue with the oath they took with their Atar. The Peredhils' path lies another way and it will be for you and those with you now to guide them for they too will have a choice once Morgoth is defeated. I cannot tell you what that choice is, it is not for me to pronounce until Lord Manwe deems it time, but choose they must. For the sake of all in Arda Marred._

_Are they to come to me...us? _Ereinion could hardly control the beating of his heart. He had longed to take the two boys under his protection as their closest living relative. The comment about exceptions sat in the back of his mind like a solid, immovable object, but he couldn't bring himself to question the Herald further. Instead he allowed his joy to rule the day; good news was not frequent in these troubled times.

_They will_. Eonwe's reply was short and to the point._ This is why Glorfindel was sent back after his re-embodiment. To help you guide and protect them and their line. And now we should depart for the Host my Lord. Your warriors await the order to ride on._

Ereinion couldn't stop grinning. All the way along the road, eating the dust from Eonwe's horse's hooves, he just kept grinning. Cirdan and Celeborn glanced at him in alarm more than once or twice but the pace was too fast for them to have any kind of decent conversation with him. Glorfindel, for his part, realised that the High King had been informed by the Herald that he would aoon have two wards under his protection and a faint, but satisfied, smile hovered around his finely sculpted lips. 

All was not quite perhaps as it should be, but it was getting there.

ooOoo

**The Herald's Pavilion, Camp of the Host **

"How are you feeling?"

Gary looked up from where he was using the whetstone on his sword. "About what?" 

Tulkas selected an apple from the fruit bowl and examined it closely. "Oh.. about...everything."

Gary snorted. "Everything being Eonwe's imminent return you mean? Or the fact that Kim is clinging onto Maedhros as though he was a life preserver. Or perhaps you mean the fact that Alun Davies is terrified of saying anything or moving because he doesn't know whether Sauron is in control of some part of him." He resumed the whetstoning. "Then there's the baby of course. Eonwe's daughter."

"_Your _daughter." Tulkas interposed gently, but with a smile.

"Ah yes, thereby hangs a tale. My daughter." Gary's expression had become grim. "Except that I wasn't responsible for her was I? Your sidekick did all that."

Tulkas leaned back until the camp chair was resting precariously on its two back legs. He bit into the apple with a satisfying crunch. "Hmm. Nice piece of fruit. Now where was I? Ah yes, my sidekick, as you call him. The question I was actually asking was, how were you feeling about him, which is, of course, my first concern."

Gary stood up and placed the sword carefully in its rack. Then he went to the tent flap and pulled it back. The flaps to Kim's pavilion were closed. He could see Alun sitting outside with Maglor and Elros. Maedhros was nowhere to be seen and neither was Elrond, but Gary suspected that the young Peredhil was in the healing tents. 

All around him were the signs of camp gearing itself up for both the evening and nighttime, but also for the sorties that would be sent out the next day. The battle had been both fierce and bloody and his heart was filled with sorrow for those who had lost their lives and those injured in the battle. Earlier he and Tulkas had made the rounds of the healing tents and it was hard for Gary to accept that injuries which the average GP could have healed just by dressing them and using the right antibiotics were deadly in this time. It had affected him badly. He felt weary to the bone.

He sighed and turned back to Tulkas who was still sitting by the table. The Valar finished the apple in another two bites and put the core on a plate. He smiled at Gary and waited.

"How am I supposed to feel? I've never been split in two before. I'm as nervous as hell. It's like waiting to go to the dentist. What will I remember? Will I remember anything? How do I explain to Kim that I am not coming through to 2007 with her and won't be there when she will need me the most?" He sat down and his head drooped in despair. "Will I still be me or will I be someone else who doesn't even remember who me is?"

Tulkas rose to his feet and held his arms out. "Child..." He said nothing more. Gary also stood and allowed himself to be enfolded in the Valar's strong and comforting embrace. 

"I'm so tired." Gary whispered into his shoulder. "I don't even want to think about it any more."

Tulkas felt the presence of Irmo and Este as their forms coalesced in the tent. To those outside it seemed as though the area around the test was lit up. Those who knew were aware that other Valar were present and they said nothing.

Curunir had been on his way to make his complaint about the Feanorians, but saw the light and even he did not dare to interrupt. His lip curled in irritation and he swept past Finarfin and Noruthalion who had been heading up to Ingwion's tent for a light supper.

"That creature is bad news." Finarfin said softly to himself. Noruthalion glanced at him and smiled, but said nothing. The Maia Curunir wasn't the most popular person in the Host.

In the pavilion of the Herald, Tulkas had led the exhausted Gary to Eonwe's cot and bade him lie down. Gary was too tired and too upset to argue or fight it. His heavy eyelids closed and Irmo wove healing dreams around him. Este sat beside the cot and placed her hand on his brow.

Gary's sleep grew deeper. The last really coherent sound he heard was the song "The Two of Us." rattling through his brain. He was too tired to even smile at the irony.

ooOoo

**[1 Fuzz** - _British slang word for the Police_

**[2 Scran** - _British military slang word for food, or a meal._


	54. Cherchez la femme

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.**

Oh dear, I can feel a sequel coming on.

"Bottom line is, even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready  
for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change,  
not really. But it does. So what are we? Helpless? Puppets?  
No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that.  
It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find  
out who you are." **- Whistler, Buffy the Vampire Sl****ayer**

**Chapter 54 - Cherchez la femme **

**The Camp of the Host of the Valar**

Kim stared unhappily at the tent entrance. The flaps were down for a very good reason and that very good reason was the fact that she had just vomited violently into what passed for the temporary 'toilet'. The food that the young Elven warrior had brought in a good hour earlier was now congealing on the plate and the smell and sight of it had made her stomach turn. The moment she had picked up her fork and tried to eat some of it her stomach rebelled. She had thrown a cloth over it after vomiting and was now sitting on the small cot, breathing deeply and willing herself not to do it again. The saliva kept working itself around in her mouth encouraging her to swallow, but she knew if she did she would just hurl again.

So there she sat, trying not to heave and concentrating on the pattern in the tent material until it all swirled into one and made her head spin. The loose shirt brushed lightly against very sensitive breasts and when she looked at them closely she could see a delicate network of fine bluish veins covering them which had not been there before. And they were bigger. Not glamour model Jordan bigger, but definitely rounder and more plump. Her breasts did get sore close to that time of the month but she hadn't had a time of the month for a while.

She stood up abruptly in alarm and her head swam, so she sat back down again and started to do some calculating. Her last period had been only a few days into them landing in Middle-Earth, round about the time they had met up with King Gil-galad and his army. She hadn't wanted to get on the horse and Gary had shouted at her. But how long ago _was_ that? So much had happened in so short a time that she had actually lost track of the days they had been here in another time, but it had to be at_ least _a month or even five maybe six weeks. 

Kim couldn't be sure of the exact timing, but she was sure of two things. She should have had a period by now and Eonwe had made love to her since her last one. More than once.

"Oh god." She whispered, her heart sinking to the bottom of her boots. "Surely I _can't_ be... can I?"

The nausea she was feeling had started a couple of days ago, just after the big dinner with Gary and Lord Tulkas when she and Alun had arrived in the camp with Maedhros. She had put it down to eating rich food after days of camp cooking on top of many days of not eating properly, but maybe it wasn't that at all. Perhaps it was morning sickness.

Her legs felt weak. This changed everything for her. At the same time a feeling of wonder swept over her and a silly smile hovered around her mouth. She laid her hand protectively across her still flat belly and somehow she just _knew_ that deep inside there lay their child. Hers and Eonwe's child. In the same moment she knew that whatever happened with Gary and Eonwe and no matter whether he returned to their own time with her or not, _she_ had to go. She couldn't stay here. 

In any case if she was going to have a baby it was going to be in a hospital with the best care and lots of painkillers, not in some tent in the middle of nowhere. Not to mention the fact that she and the baby would be in horrible danger if she stayed. Especially given what Alun had told them, that he had been transported to Middle-Earth for the specific purpose of bringing her to this Sauron person. She repressed a shudder at the thought.

And then there was the matter of concerns about her and the baby's safety being an additional worry and distraction for Eonwe. He didn't need that in his life. He had responsibilities, like a war to fight and win. He couldn't do that if he was constantly worrying about her, and she knew that he would.

The awful thought that she would never see him again, never feel his strong arms around her or his lips on hers sliced through her like a knife and tears sprang to her eyes. The desire to see him warred with the desire to leave that very moment and the longing to see him won.

She stood back up, lips set firm. No, she _did _have to go for everyone's sake, not now of course, not before seeing him one last time, but definitely when the others got here. But was she to tell Eonwe he was going to be a father and distract him further before she went? Or should she just keep her own counsel and hope to hell they were back home before her belly started to grow?

She needed to do the right thing, but honestly wasn't sure what the right thing was. She needed to talk to Gary.

ooOoo

Eonwe wasn't exactly sure _when_ it happened. One moment he was still able to sense Gary as a separate entity, the next he had abruptly reined his horse in, slid haphazardly off its back and staggered drunkenly into some bushes.

Gil-galad immediately called a halt and both Jim and the Chief had slid off their mounts heading to where Eonwe was bent double over a patch of gorse-like bushes. However it was Celeborn who actually reached the Maia first, followed by Glorfindel and one of the healers. He bent down to Eonwe just as he retched painfully, spewing a stream of thin bitter bile over the thorny leaves of the bushes.

As Celeborn and Glorfindel eased him down onto the ground into a sitting position, flashes of memory immediately started to fill his head in rapid succession. He groaned, clapped both hands to his head in pain and rocked back and forth in an effort to contain the information that was filling his mind. Celeborn and Glorfindel supported him in an effort to ensure he didn't hurt himself as he thrashed around violently and reeled under the onslaught.

He saw a desert and soldiers clad in light brown clothing. There was gunfire; violent explosions all around him which made him wince and then one extremely vivid memory of sitting on the ground holding another man as his life's blood seeped into the dusty ground. His stinging hot tears were splashing onto the man's face and he moaned in distress as he watched the light of life die out of the injured man's eyes. Everyone watched in alarm as the tears spilled heedlessly down the Herald's dusty cheeks. The healer reached forward with a cloth and gently wiped them away.

Then another, more pleasant, memory of sitting beside a hospital bed where a pretty young fair-haired woman lay sleeping and thinking that she was the prettiest girl he had seen for a long time, despite the bruising and scratches on her face.

The memories abruptly changed again and flew back a little further in time. He saw himself among whole ranks of other young officers proudly marching and saluting the Commander in Chief, Her Majesty The Queen at his passing out parade at Sandhurst. He even recalled himself and a couple of other officers sewing up the Regimental Sergeant Major in his sleeping bag whilst on a forty-eight hour exercise and then sitting in the bushes crying with laughter as the man managed to caterpillar crawl out of the back of the land rover cursing them roundly and threatening them with hideous torture and punishment for their cheek. 

Eonwe's agonised expression had eased considerably as this evidently much more pleasant memory took the place of the distressing ones. However it also started him off giggling hysterically amidst the tears and caused even greater alarm among those watching.

Cirdan turned to Gil-galad. "Can we do nothing?"

Ereinion shook his head. "I do not think so. I believe the event he and Garee both feared is happening or about to happen. He is in the hands of Eru now. I do not believe even the Valar can help. All we can do is be here to pick up the pieces."

"If there is anything left to _pick_ up." Cirdan replied grimly.

The giggling eased off considerably to the relief of all. Eonwe now had a dreamy smile on his handsome face. He was recalling a memory of dancing at a ball with a beautiful dark haired girl in a peach coloured gown. He spent the night laughing with her, drinking champagne and then he took her up to his room and made passionate, albeit very drunken, love to her. Glorfindel caught a flash of insight into what Eonwe was remembering and snickered softly as a blush suffused the Herald's cheeks at the events being played out in his mind's eye.

Every single memory, even jumbled up, were memories he had made as Gary Matthews, a future version of himself. Eru had been left with no choice but to join the two parts of him up, but had also decided to fill in the blanks and connect the dots. Eonwe's head was filled to exploding point with both his memories since springing from the Music of the Ainur and those from a time yet to come and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he did both. He sat on the ground and alternately laughed like a loon and cried as though his heart was breaking in two.

The High King looked at the healer who silently shook his head. The only thing he could do was to try and give the Herald some sort of potion to calm him, but there was no guarantee that it would even work on a Maia.

The Chief had gone very quiet inside the body he shared with Olorin and allowed the Maia to take over. Olorin hunkered down beside the Herald and placed his hand against his fellow Maia's forehead. After a few moments of mild struggle he managed to begin to commune properly with him, mind to mind. Slowly but surely the sobs and giggles changed to hiccups and then ceased altogether as Olorin's calm will imposed order on the chaos inside Eonwe's head.

Gil-galad knelt down before them and stared at Eonwe in concern. "What just happened?" He asked Olorin who smiled weakly. He felt exhausted. It had been quite a battle with Eonwe's will; the Herald had a very dynamic, strong personality.

"They are one." Olorin said simply.

"Garee and Lord Eonwe?" 

Olorin nodded. "Yes. We are very close to the Host now and there was no way the duality could have been maintained without damaging them both. Eru has joined them back together."

Jim's face went a little white. "But Gary... I mean...does that mean he's..." Tears slid down his cheeks. He couldn't bring himself to say the word. Erestor squeezed his shoulder in sympathy and support.

"No." Eonwe's voice was hoarse from crying and laughing, but his tone was firm and reassuring. "Not dead Jim. Here, with me. Gary is safe and well and where he belongs. Where we both belong." He tapped his head, glanced at Olorin and managed a weak grin. "Are you _still_ in there old man? Isn't it a little crowded what with the Chief being in there and all?"

The Chief/Olorin shouted with laughter. "Well if _that_ doesn't prove that Gary and you are one and the same person, _nothing_ will, you cheeky bugger. You've got room to talk about being crowded, considering that you've just been given one mortal's thirty five action-packed years of life in a few seconds." He and Gil-galad helped Eonwe to his feet and Celeborn dusted him down. 

Eonwe accepted some water offered to him by Glosur with a smile of thanks. He drank thirstily and handed the leathern flask back to the Dwarf. "Thank you Master Dwarf, that was much appreciated. And yes, I have_all_ of Gary's...er..._my_ memories. He...I... have apparently had a _very_ busy life in the future..." He blushed bright red and Glorfindel laughed out loud.. "... with _some_memories I think I would be far better off forgetting altogether." 

Laughter rippled around the group as they realised what kind of memories he was referring to. Jim choked back another sob and flung his arms around the startled Herald. "It's okay Jim." He said softly, but the young policeman's grip just tightened until he had the Herald in a rib-cracking bear hug. "Er... Jim? Uh... oxygen... becoming... a_huge_ issue here."

Jim blushed to the roots of his hair and let Eonwe go. "Oops, sorry mate. I was just so relieved. I didn't mean..." His blush deepened and the Herald affectionately clasped his shoulder.

"It's okay Jim. I understand." He said gently.

More than a few present and witnessing the spectacle had tears in their eyes. Cirdan surreptitiously wiped his tears away on his glove. "I think perhaps if Lord Eonwe feels well enough we should press on." He advised gruffly. "We are sitting targets here out in the open."

Gil-galad cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes indeed. With your leave my Lord Eonwe, shall we mount up? If you are feeling well enough of course..."

Eonwe smiled at the Chief and Jim and winked. "I'm good to go Lord Gil-galad."

"Good to go?" Ereinion raised his eyebrows and gave the Herald an suspicious glare. "What does_ that _mean... good to go. Good to go where?"

"Home, or what passes for home at the moment." Eonwe said, swinging himself onto the back of his horse. "I have some explaining to do to a certain lady and a _very_ serious question to ask her."

ooOoo

**Eonwe's pavilion, Camp of the Host of the Valar**

Kim burst unceremoniously through the opening into Eonwe's pavilion where Tulkas was sitting with Finarfin, Ingwion and the Edain commanders discussing the deployment of the various patrols. He didn't seem startled or angry at her intrusion, instead he dismissed the battle commanders pleasantly and drew the distressed young woman to a chair. The Valar then beckoned to the young Vanyarin warrior who Kim had bowled over in her impatience to talk to Gary and gestured for him to ensure they were not disturbed. The warrior placed his hand over his heart and closed the tent flaps behind him. 

Tulkas poured some of the golden wine from Valinor into two goblets and handed one to her.

Kim sniffed the wine and looked up at him doubtfully. "I'm not sure I should. I think... I mean... I _might_ be pregnant."

Tulkas sat down in the other chair and smiled reassuringly at her. "And you rushed in here like a whirlwind just to tell Gary that he was going to be a father?" His tone was dry but tinged with laughter.

She blushed to the roots of her hair. "Um... I guess. Only I don't think..." She stopped dead and bit her lip.

"You do not think it is his?" Tulkas completed her sentence.

Kim felt awful. She hadn't meant to interrupt the Valar who, it had been explained to her, more or less equated with an Archangel. She also hadn't meant to blurt out about it not being Gary's baby, in fact she hadn't meant to blurt anything out at all. All she had intended to do was to speak to Gary in a calm, mature fashion and then gently break the news that she thought she might be pregnant with his alter ego's child. Sort of drop it casually into the conversation at some point so to speak.

She groaned. "This is coming out _all _wrong."

The Valar threw back his head and laughed. "No child, it isn't. I can see how confusing all of this is for you. You do understand what Gary was talking about when he explained about himself and Eonwe did you not?"

"Yes. Kind of... Gary _is_ Eonwe but in the future and he was sent to Middle-Earth in human form without memories of who he really was because God decided that there needed to be a link between Val...Val...that place where you all come from and Earth where _we_ live." She stopped and sighed."Or something like that."

Kim could have kicked herself. She was sounding more pathetic by the second. Wasn't there something she had read about how being pregnant destroyed brain cells? And she didn't possess all that many to start with. Apparently her last one was about to leave her.

Tulkas chuckled. "Yes something like that. Gary and Eonwe are not two different people Kim, they are the same person, it is simply that as Gary he recalled nothing of his former life as Eonwe, and the Eonwe of this time, of course, had not experienced_ any_ of those things yet because your time has not happened yet. Therefore it seemed at first that they were two very different men. That is because, separately, they _were_ two very different men with very different life experiences. They are two halves of a whole."

"He's not here is he?" Kim suddenly felt very small. As though the universe had stretched all around her and she hadn't grown with it.

Tulkas shook his head and laid his huge hand over her small one in comfort. "No child, he isn't. He left during the night to meet with Eonwe." There was simply no other way to break the news to her.

The tears tumbled down her cheeks. "I can't talk to him then and I_really_ needed to." Her head drooped and she began to cry quietly in a way that tugged at Tulkas' heartstrings. 

He felt Este's presence in a corner of the tent, but she did not take incarnate form. Instead she discreetly drew Tulkas' attention to the tent opening. Kim had her back to it and could not see the tall form of Eonwe standing quietly in the entrance, incongruously dressed in British Army combats and looking more than a little worse for wear. He was watching Kim with the light of love in his eyes, but when Tulkas opened his mouth as if to tell Kim that the person she wanted to speak to was actually there, Eonwe shook his head slightly. 

Tulkas smiled and turned his attention back to Kim. "And what would you say to him if he was here little one?" He asked softly.

Kim bit her lip and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve, whereupon Tulkas handed her a napkin. She blew her nose on it and managed a tiny smile. "Thank you."

"You are welcome child."

"I would tell him how much I love him and how much I want to stay... but I can't. I can't stay. I think I am pregnant and I would be a burden to him and I know that if he and Eonwe are together then they aren't two people any more. Eonwe has to stay." The words tumbled out of her like water tumbling out of a spring. Eonwe desperately ached to hold her and comfort her but he stayed where he was.

"Yes he does." Tulkas said softly. 

"If I am pregnant then it would be dangerous for me to stay. That Sauron or whatever he's called, he managed to bring Alun Davies here in the hopes that I would go with him, but Alun was supposed to take me to Sauron instead of home and now he's terribly afraid of being alone with me. He thinks Sauron can still hurt me and Eonwe through him." She shook her head. "I tried to tell him that you and Gary wouldn't let Sauron hurt him, but I think he still worries inside. If we were back home in 2007 and the portal was closed for good then Sauron wouldn't be able to do anything. At least I hope he wouldn't." She heaved a sigh. "I just wish either Gary or Eonwe were here..."

Tulkas exchanged glances with Eonwe who nodded. He stepped forward. "I _am_ here beloved. There is nothing to fear. You can tell me anything you wish." He opened his arms in invitation.

Kim leapt to her feet. Her face was alight with joy as she forgot totally about cool, calm, collected adult Kim and flung herself headlong into Eonwe's arms which closed around her and held her tight. 

Tulkas beamed his approval and withdrew from the tent, as did Este. Eonwe and Kim clung to each other. For the moment there was no need for any words between them. 

ooOoo


	55. Never the Twain shall meet

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2**

**Note to readers:** Many apologies for the delay in posting chapters of this story. Unfortunately real life took over and I had to deal with it first before I could relax and write again. I also had to get a new computer system which I now have and which is a super duper high end gaming system so that I can indulge in playing Age of Conan!

We are heading towards the close of this part of Eonwe and Kim's tale and I do have a game plan for a sequel of sorts, but for now, on with the tale! Just short chapter to get me into the swing of things again.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

**-- ****William Shakespeare**

**Chapter 55 – Never the twain shall meet**

**Halls of the Valar, Taniquetil, Aman**

"What troubles you so my beloved?"

Manwe, Elder King and Lord of the Breath of Arda turned from the large window to the East where he so often stood these days. His countenance was somber and reflective. For a long moment he did not answer, simply because he could not find the right words to explain his feelings, but his spouse bided her time and waited patiently.

Finally the answer came.

"I have been… observing Eonwe and his mortal." He sighed. He moved slowly away from the window and slumped down heavily on the marble velvet cushioned bench beside his wife.

She looked anxiously at him. "You are not thinking of changing your minds about allowing the union are you?"

He shook his head. "Nay, it is a little late for that. I neither could or would do such a thing to our Herald, but I do have great reservations about their future together. She is mortal, he is immortal, I wonder how much time either have spent in pondering the issues that will become increasingly obvious as she ages and he does not. And what of the child, their daughter? There has been no word from Atar as to her status. Is she bound to Arda like her father or is she to be given the Gift of Men and move beyond the Circles of the World as her mother is bound to do? Surely these are questions that they must consider and _must_ be answered before she is returned to her own time."

Varda chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I cannot believe that Atar has not considered all of this my beloved. He knows how loyally Eonwe has served both him and the Valar and he would not punish his loyal child. Should we not just be happy for them both at the moment? The die is cast, this ceremony that is to be performed is merely words said over them, their true bonding began when he took her to his bed." Manwe opened his mouth to speak but was forestalled by his wife's slender hand on his arm. "Let them have this moment, the future will take care of itself. I foresee that Eonwe will have the hardest time of both of them anyway since he will have to live for many millennia in the full and certain knowledge that his child will be born without his presence and that she will not be by his side. It will be hard enough for him without having to consider the ponderous issues of mortality and immortality."

"I hope you are right my heart." Manwe said softly. "I spoke to Namo on this matter earlier and he would not speak clearly of their fate."

Varda laughed. "I can imagine. He is a Vala of few words. What did he _actually _say?"

"Oh you know; the normal cryptic stuff that he comes out with when he's trying to be maddening and mysterious." Manwe scowled and scuffed one perfect sandal against the leg of a marble table. "He spouted some drivel along the lines of 'everything will be known in the fullness of time' which could mean anything and absolutely nothing at all."

"Drivel?" The amused tones of the dread Lord of Mandos filtered across the room. "I always wondered why I failed to persuade Feanor and the rest of the Noldor to return and now I know why. It must be as a result of the drivel that spouts out of me whenever I am required to proclaim doom upon someone. I obviously failed miserably to impress upon the rebellious masses the enormity of their actions and decisions nor did I manage to convey the horrific ramifications on their future descendants."

Manwe's irritation immediately changed to embarrassment. "Namo, I didn't mean…I mean it wasn't my intention to… I just meant…"

Namo stood for a long while watching his brother Vala struggle to find the right-sounding explanation. His eyes held a deep twinkle of amusement and Varda hid a smile as she realized that the Lord of Mandos was simply going to stand there while the Elder King dug a huge hole for himself.

Once he was satisfied that Manwe had huffed and puffed his way through every denial and explanation he could come up with, Namo finally smiled that long, slow smile of his and decided to put the Elder King out of his misery.

"I was not being cryptic when I said all would be known in the fullness of time. Atar has not yet decided as to the status of Eonwe's spouse, much will depend on the safe arrival of their child whose status is _not_ in question by the way. She is half Maia, half human and will be automatically granted the same fate as Luthien Tinuviel was before her when she was born, until Luthien forsook her immortality of course. The child will be bound to Arda like her father."

Varda paled. "Surely all will be well with the child?"

"There is no indication otherwise as yet, however her future cannot yet be clearly seen. Atar says this is because Kim currently stands with a foot in both time dimensions. Once she is returned to her own time the child's ultimate fate will become much clearer." Namo's voice was calm, but it did nothing quell the sudden rising anxiety in both Manwe and Varda.

Manwe glanced at his wife and tried to push that rising anxiety down. "Is there a doubt that she will return to her own timeline?"

"No." Namo shook his head. "She is wisely resolved to return to her own time, as she and Eonwe both believe it is the safest course of action to take for the sake of the child, but until she passes through the portal created by the rift in dimensions, both she and their child are in danger. Once they are gone and the rift is sealed, things will be clearer. However I do not think this is your only concern is it?" He sat down on the opposite bench to Varda and Manwe but directed his question at Manwe alone.

Varda gave her spouse an accusing glare. "Of course it is…isn't it? What other concern could there be?"

Manwe shifted uncomfortably in his seat and he looked at Namo for support.

The Lord of Mandos waved his hand dismissively at his brother Vala. "Oh no you don't." He said cheerfully. "You're not going to involve _me_ in this. I don't make the rules; I just spout drivel when you and Atar ask me to."

Varda's stare grew harder and Manwe sighed. "Oh all right then. I am not sure of Kim's maturity and ability to conduct a relationship with someone of Eonwe's stature. There, satisfied?" His expression was mutinous and just to emphasise the whole issue he folded his arms stubbornly.

His wife's jaw dropped. "I am surely not hearing this from you! I thought you were delighted that Eonwe had finally found someone who he loves and who loves him in return."

"I am...I was…" Manwe protested. "I still am, but I feel that she has not demonstrated a great deal of maturity over the past few weeks, what with running off because she didn't get her own way and putting others in danger and having tantrums. None of that demonstrates to me the kind of maturity required of the consort of the Herald of Manwe. Will she _understand _that he has a duty to the Valar and to Atar and that it is her duty to support him? Or will she indulge in a tantrum because she wants him to stay by her side all the time? I do not wish to see Eonwe hurt or trying to slice himself in two to please a mortal child who has no understanding of what he is and what his place in the Music is. Does she even _know_ what the Music is? Do _any _of them know…mortals I mean? They don't appear to live by any kind of belief system, few, if any, even know who Iluvator is!"

He knew he was sounding petulant, but once open, it was difficult to shut the floodgates on his fears and worries and Kim Freeman was definitely an unknown quantity, therefore something to be worried about.

"From what I have learned from the Chief, I know that modern mortals at least have abided by a code of moral conduct and do have belief systems." Namo interjected reasonably and stood up. "Kim is a child of his time and therefore will have been brought up in a similar way, although I think the term 'Music' is not something she would associate with belief in Iluvator, who they call God, or his servants. I have no fears that she is capable of understanding the situation. Yes she is young, but I believe her love for Eonwe is true. In truth her seemingly immature actions over the past few weeks have been borne from fear of the situation she was plunged into and complicated by her love for Eonwe and his alter ego, rather than an indication of lack of maturity. I think she will do well with guidance and motherhood will give her an added maturity."

Varda glared at her husband again. "As do I." She said firmly, brooking no further objections from her husband who flung his hands up in defeat.

"Fine! I do _not_ dislike the child. Far from it. I can even see what Eonwe sees in her and I _am_ happy for him. Of _course_ I am happy for him…for them both; I just have a few reservations, for both their sakes, not just his. Am I not allowed to have reservations?"

Varda placed a gentle hand on her husband's hand. "Of _course_ you are allowed, Eonwe is like a son to both of us and we both want the best for him, but for now, just be happy for them both."

Manwe pursed his lips as Namo bowed to them and slowly disappeared from their presence until virtually nothing but that wide knowing smile was left.

"I _am_ happy for them. See? I even got dressed up for the occasion of their wedding." He grumbled as Varda took his hand and drew him back to the large window from which they both regularly gazed to the East, across the Sundering Sea. "Have you ever noticed how excessively creepy that smile of Namo's is? It hangs around long after he's gone. It's simply not natural." He shuddered dramatically.

Varda laughed softly to herself, slipped her arm around his waist and leaned in towards him as they watched the wedding party form complete with a suitably nervous looking Eonwe. Slowly but surely the rest of the Valar materialised in the chamber behind them, all apart from Namo whose duties required him elsewhere on this occasion.

ooOoo

**The battlecamp of the Host of the Valar, somewhere in northern Beleriand**

It was a wedding the likes of which had never been witnessed in Middle Earth and was never likely to be seen again. The bride stood in her tent and fidgeted nervously while one of the female Elven healers adjusted the nearest thing to a wedding dress anyone could come up with at such short notice. Kim had already been bathed within an inch of her life and her now very long hair had been pinned into a feminine style studded with small star like white and yellow flowers. She didn't ask where the gown came from, but it was of the palest green and perhaps the prettiest dress she had ever worn in her entire life.

It had been explained to her that there would be two ceremonies, one performed in the presence of Lord Tulkas as a representative of the Valar in which the vows would be said by Olorin, now separated from the Chief and incarnate in his own preferred form, on behalf of Eonwe and Ereinion Gil-galad in his capacity of High King of the Noldor in exile would speak the vows for Kim.

The other ceremony would be performed by Alun Davies in his capacity as a preacher. The vows for that would be spoken by the groom and bride who would be 'given away' by Chief Knowles. Eonwe had chosen Jim to stand with him as best man. Celebrimbor, Glosur and his dwarves had been prevailed upon to forge the two silver rings that would be worn by bride and groom. The SAS team were to stand as witness to the solemnization of the marriage so that Kim's official claim to Gary's military pensions and wordly goods would have a good legal standing.

Great excitement had reigned over the camp and everyone had gone to great effort to make it look quite festive. Not an easy task given the fact that they were in the middle of a war. Both Elven and Edain cooks had joined together to produce a wedding feast and the guards had been doubled so that no unwanted guests from Morgoth's side would gain entry.

Elrond stepped through the tent flaps just as the healer left. He smiled at Kim. "I have brought these for you to carry." He said quietly, handing her a small bouquet of sweet smelling flowers. "I understand it is traditional in your time for the bride to hold flowers."

"They're beautiful." Kim breathed in the scent in delight. She beamed at Elrond and lightly brushed her lips across his cheek in thanks.

Elrond blushed to the roots of his hair and bowed courteously. "_You_ are a beautiful bride, as beautiful as any I have seen and it is a lovely custom. I will remember it if I ever come to take a bride."

"If? More like when." Kim grinned happily at him. "They'll be forming a queue when they realize what a catch you are!"

"Dear Eru, I hope not." Elrond beamed back at her. "I do not believe I could handle more than one wife!"

They were interrupted by Maedhros who entered the tent elegant in a set of rich green robes, a colour which suited his flowing red hair. He nodded to Elrond, who slipped out to join the rest of the guests, turned to Kim and offered his arm. "I hope you realize that I do not get dressed up like this for just _anyone_ Lady." His tone was severe but his eyes were twinkling. "I am to escort you to Chief Knowles. Your bridegroom awaits you with as much anxiety as a Maiar can summon up."

She wanted to giggle at the thought of Eonwe being as anxious as she was, but an enormous terror suddenly took hold of her and instead she gripped his arm tightly and stared up at Maedhros with terrified eyes. He gave her hand a comforting squeeze and gently kissed her cheek.

"Courage little one you are going to your wedding, not your execution! Are you ready?"

She nodded mutely and they left the tent.

ooOoo


	56. Eat, drink and be merry

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2**

Carrie: I'd like to think that people have more than one soulmate.  
Samantha: I agree! I've had hundreds.  
Carrie: Yeah! And you know what, if you miss one, along comes another one. Like cabs. - **Sex and the City**

**Chapter 56 – Eat, drink and be merry**

"Such a pretty event, although I confess I am surprised at Eonwe's choice of spouse. She seems an insipid little mortal after all. Hardly comparable to a female of his own kind or even one of the Eldar who at least have some grace and beauty about them. Edain women are so…overblown."

Finarfin barely held his tongue and only did so because Ingwion's leather boot was firmly pressing his foot into the ground. So he ground his teeth instead. He didn't dare to look at Curunir, but he could actually hear the Maia's lip curling in contempt. The temptation to actually _give_ the representative of Aule a fat lip was overwhelming.

"Careful." Whispered his friend and fellow Commander. "I have it on good authority that you will be needing that fine set of teeth to chew through the only venison currently existing in Middle Earth. You may be praying for a nice cutlet of mushy Orc steak before the day is through."

Finarfin immediately went from grinding his teeth to clamping them down on a spurt of uncontrollable laughter which he just managed to turn into a strangled cough when Cirdan turned and looked directly at both Commanders with one silver-grey eyebrow lifted in amused query. The Shipwright chuckled inwardly at both senior officers now blushing furiously and trying hard to stem the flow of mildly hysterical giggling.

Fortunately both bride and groom were blissfully oblivious. They stood holding hands while Ereinion and Olorin made their vows to Eru Iluvator in the presence of Lord Tulkas. Eonwe's eyes never left those of his bride and she in turn seemed captivated by his gaze. Vows were made and normally the rings would have been placed on their fingers, except for the fact that there was another ceremony to be gone through.

Olorin and Ereinion both stepped back their, pleasant for once, tasks completed and Tulkas took his place among the guests. Chief Knowles stepped up and stood beside Kim while Jim took his place beside Eonwe who gave the young Policeman a querying look. Jim grinned and opened his hand to show the two silver rings safely in his keeping.

Normally the ending of the Elven marriage ceremony would have been the signal for the joyous rites to begin. Bride and groom would have been feted; merry dancing would have been spontaneous, food and wine would have overflowed. On this occasion however a hush grew over the traditional congratulatory greetings as Alun Davies stepped up to the plate. He cleared his throat and the silence grew deeper. Even the forest was silent as though in homage to the momentous event that was taking place within it.

"Dearly beloved…we are gathered here in the presence of God and in the sight of this congregation to witness the joining of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…"

By the time they were at the point where the bride and groom were repeating their vows to each other and Eonwe was pledging his oath to have and to hold from this day onward till death do us part, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Despite the language barriers Alun's sonorous tones rang out and everyone felt they were witnessing something solemn, awe inspiring and wonderful.

As he pronounced them man and wife the sun broke through the crowds and shone directly on them all. Eru's approval was felt by everyone present and even Curunir surreptitiously brushed the sleeve of his white robe over his eyes.

"There is something in my eye." He stated, rather unnecessarily, to Finarfin and Ingwion.

"Riiight." They chorused back and Finarfin rolled his eyes.

"What a beautiful ceremony." Celeborn grabbed a handful of petals and flung them over the newly weds with abandon and Glorfindel's rich golden laughter rang out as two of the Naugrim and Celebrimbor dragged him into spontaneous wedding jig.

It was the signal for the jollities to begin. Kim didn't have time to be afraid of the enormity of the task she had just taken on as she and a laughing Eonwe were also swept up onto the shoulders of enthusiastic guests, both Elves and Men, and paraded around. She caught Maedhros's eye as she was borne aloft. He was smiling unreservedly for once; the usual bored and cynical gleam in his green eyes had been replaced with approval and a tinge of envy. It suddenly hit her that Maedhros would never ever experience the happiness she was experiencing today and the thought made her immensely sad.

Her eyes met those of her husband…_husband_ she thought numbly. The word seemed alien on her lips. So was she Mrs Matthews or Mrs Eonwe? Did he even have a last name? Perhaps she was Mrs Herald or even Mrs Maia. Hysterical giggles rose up in her chest and she pictured herself being introduced by Eonwe as the 'little woman' or, even worse, 'the other half'. The giggles finally erupted and as she was lifted around on the shoulders of those carrying her she found herself face to face with the man she had just married for better or for worse and she wondered.

How worse could the worst actually be?

He was smiling at her, only for her, that brilliant smile that turned her knees to jelly and oh, those eyes! She stifled a groan, those wonderful dark blue eyes that she just wanted to fall into and drown in, never to emerge again. _I love you_, he mouthed and she turned bright pink and felt silly and lightheaded with happiness.

_I love you too_, she mouthed back and then they were on the ground and being led to tables groaning with food and wine.

The rest of the celebration passed both Kim and Eonwe by in a blur. Tulkas, Ereinion, Olorin and everyone else at their part of the table realized after about five seconds that nobody was going to get any sense out of the bridal couple. The only time they came out of their reverie was when Glosur offered a wedding toast to the happy couple which ended with a bit of sage advice when he assured Eonwe that it wasn't at _all_ true that married men lived longer than single men, it only _felt_ a lot longer.

He went on to further assure the company that he himself had not spoken to his own wife for almost a year because he didn't like to interrupt her. The whole company collapsed with laughter at that amidst shouts of hearty approval and agreement from many of the married Edain _and_ Eldar.

Once Glosur realized that he had a very appreciate audience and that even the Herald and his bride had tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks, he topped it all off by declaring that marriage was a _very_ good thing indeed, for if it weren't for the happy union of man and wife, men would spend their _entire lives_ believing that they had absolutely no faults at all.

"He should be a wedding facilitator." Jim whispered to Chief who was laughing uproariously at the old Naugrim. "He'd make a fortune. We could hire him out."

Eonwe gently turned his wife's face to him. "It is time to leave I think…before the celebration becomes a little too ribald." He gently kissed her and she was glad to be sitting down otherwise her knees would have given way. He smiled wistfully at her. "I would have liked to have taken you to some deserted spot in the Caribbean where we could just do anything we wished, spend all day in bed, but I cannot. All I can offer you is a wedding bower in my tent and it doesn't sound romantic at all."

She had stars in her eyes as she returned his kiss oblivious of the amused yet understanding audience all around them. "It doesn't matter." She whispered softly. "We have each other and that's all I need, _or_ want. And it sounds wonderfully romantic."

He rose to his feet lifting her to hers and the company also rose with them. He immediately gestured for them to remain sitting. Once they were seated again he thanked them all on both his and Kim's behalf, for the best wedding he could ever have imagined.

"However, I believe that it's time my wife and I left you to enjoy the rest of the celebration in your way as we will enjoy the rest of our special day in ours." The number of slightly ribald comments that ensued from the audience saw a light flush bloom on the Herald's golden skin, but he took the comments in good part and laughed along with them. "I will say goodnight to you all and once again you have our gratitude for making our day a very special one by your presence and good wishes."

Eonwe offered his hand to Kim and they left, accompanied by the Herald's personal guard.

"Excellent!" Glosur was heard to say loudly. "Now we can get on with the _real_ part of the celebrations!" He turned to Lord Celeborn. "Have ye ever tasted Dwarven ale my Lord? There's a wee contest that we Naugrim have at such celebrations as these." He held his hand out and one of the other dwarves handed him a strange looking object that resembled a long metal tube with a bulb on the end.

Celeborn examined the object with great curiosity. He wasn't all that fond of dwarves and for good reason, but Glosur and his people had fought well and with great honour so he felt obliged to be polite. Cirdan, Ereinion and the others of the High King's company who were more familiar with the dwarves and their 'customs' sat back with knowing smiles.

"What is this?" Celeborn asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

Glosur smiled and his beady little eyes disappeared into his eye sockets. "Ah, well my Lord Elf, this is called a yard of ale, or at least it will be once we get the ale into it." He handed the yard to one of the other dwarves who immediately started siphoning ale into the object from a barrel. He handed the now brimming yard to the elf who held it carefully in case it spilled.

Celeborn's silver brows knitted together. He could feel his wife's presence in the back of his mind and sensed she was highly amused for some reason. He also sensed that she had been about to say something and then seemed to think better of it. "But what do you do with it?" He asked in bewilderment.

The dwarf looked at him askance as if to say that he thought the Elf Lord had more brains than he was demonstrating at that moment in time. "What do you _do_ with it?" He echoed. "Why you drink the ale from it Lord Elf, only…"He placed a restraining hand on Celeborn's arm as he was about to take a sip. "It's not for sipping. You have to drink it all, in one long swallow, to the very end."

Celeborn was even more bewildered. "You just drink all of it?" He repeated.

Glosur nodded his eyes bright with glee. "Yes, all of it, in one go."

Celeborn glanced at Cirdan and the others who stared back at him with solemn expressions on their faces. That alone should have told him something, but instead he sighed, tipped his head back, placed the tube on his lips and prepared to swallow for all he was worth. The purpose of this little exercise still wasn't very clear at all.

The Chief and Olorin were standing to one side watching. The Maia's face was creased with amusement. "Do you think he knows what he's getting himself into?" The Chief asked.

"Not for one minute." Chortled the Maia gleefully

"Reckon we should say something? I mean, a yard of ale, that's an awful lot of ale." Chief said doubtfully. "I've seen tough men downed by a yard of ale in the Mess."

"Nah," The SAS sergeant materialized beside them both. He cast a critical over the tall Elf Lord. "He looks a likely lad. He'll be fine. I reckon the dwarf's the one in over his head there."

"Perhaps you would like to place a wager on that." A cool drawl interrupted them and Olorin reacted with shock as he saw the tall elegant figure of the Lord of Mandos standing near to them. Olorin was about to speak, but an imperceptible shake of Namo's head stopped him dead.

"Don't mind if I do." The sergeant grinned, completely under-awed by the presence of this tall beautiful but dangerous looking man. He held out his hand. "Dutch van Breda."

Namo smiled at him. "Namo, Lord of Mandos." They shook hands. "Name your wager."

Chief looked at Olorin who was shaking his head. "Oh I have a _very_ bad feeling about this." Olorin whispered to Chief Knowles.

"Me too." Quipped the Chief. "I've played enough chess with the bugger to know for _sure_ that he's a sneaky so and so."

ooOoo

"Trust Namo to get all the fun." Aule commented and handed a handkerchief to his wife who was busy sniffling.

Orome stretched his long legs out and accepted a glass of sparkling golden wine from one of the Maia. He nodded his thanks and the Maia bowed slightly. "I'm not sure Celeborn Prince of Doriath will think of it quite like that in the morning." He remarked dryly.

"No indeed. I think he will be like a bear with a sore head after all that ale." Vana wrinkled her beautiful pert nose and carefully selected a sugared nut from the bowl on the table. "Not that I have ever tasted ale, let alone Dwarven ale."

"I did, once." Yavanna admitted. "It was rather nasty, so I assume it's quite an acquired sort of taste. I understand many of the Edain and Dwarves drink it instead of the water which they believe often carries infection with it. Especially since _he_…settled there." She couldn't quite bring herself to say Morgoth's name.

"They look so happy." Varda watched the celebrations wistfully and wiped away a tear when Eonwe tenderly kissed his new wife and led her away somewhere they could be alone. Well, as alone as anyone could be in a battle camp, in the middle of a war and surrounded by troops and the enemy.

"Humph." Grunted her husband without further comment. He moved away from the window and the festivities and plonked down unceremoniously beside Aule. He accepted a glass of wine from the Maia with a smile of thanks.

Varda glared at him. _Are you still carrying on with that?_

Her abrupt question popped into Manwe's mind and caught him by surprise just as he was taking a sip of wine. His hand jolted and the wine dripped onto his robes.

_Carrying on with what?_ He enquired. He thanked Niena for the cloth she handed him and dabbed futilely at the growing wine stain. Thank Eru it wasn't red wine.

_You know what_. His wife replied testily.

_No I'm not, but all the beautiful weddings in the world will not help either of them adjust to the separation they are about to experience. _

Varda started in surprise. _That's why you sent Namo to the wedding. To talk to them both._

_Yes, tomorrow he will speak to them both and lay out exactly what they have let themselves in for. I can think of no one better for the job._

_Even though he spouts drivel? _Varda enquired, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Manwe laughed out loud and held his hand out to his wife. "Even though he does that." He said slyly. "However, Eonwe's nuptials brought to mind our own even so many millennia ago."

Varda squeezed on the bench between her husband and Aule the Smith who looked at them both suspiciously. "You two aren't going for a re-enactment of that event here and now are you?"

The rest of the Valar laughed and the Maia in attendance hid their smiles.

"You should be so lucky." Varda said smugly. "But later on perhaps…"

"Aughhh, don't tell me." Aule waved his hand at her in disgust. "It is _much_ more information than I wish to have at present." He gave his spouse a toothy smile. "Of course our wedding was a wonderful affair. I crafted our marriage rings on the spot and we toasted ourselves with the finest golden ale ever produced on Valinor. Afterwards we went to the forge and I demonstrated my strength and love for Yavanna with my mighty hammer."

"I'm sure you did." Orome winked at him slyly. Yavanna giggled and blushed like a young maiden and punched the hunter on his arm.

"And they say romance is dead…" Manwe murmured in Varda's ear.

ooOoo

Romance was very much alive in the flower and silk draped tent of the Commander of the Host of the Valar. A bottle of wine specially brought from Valinor by Lord Namo stood in a bucket of ice cold water and two finely wrought delicate wine goblets stood by the side of it. Alongside that, just in case the newly weds needed sustenance there was a platter of cheeses and fruit.

Someone, Kim suspected Elrond's fine hand in this, had strewn scented petals all over the wide cot that Eonwe usually occupied alone. The blankets that normally adorned the cot, for want of a better description, had been replaced by a swathe of silk. Candles shed their romantic glow over the whole proceedings. It was a setting for the consummation of love and Kim suddenly felt very shy and nervous in front of her tall, handsome and shining husband.

He caught at her hand and drew her to him on the bed, gently lifting her chin with one finger so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "I have you all to myself at last." He said softly, tracing the line of her cheek with his other fingers. She blushed and tried to drop her gaze. He tipped her chin back up and kissed her lips again and as the kiss deepened, all of her fear and doubts disappeared and she said nothing as he gently pushed her down onto the bed.

If sharp Elven ears heard soft cries and deep moans of passion, they did not show it. They stood unmoving and expressionless outside the Herald's tent, sharp eyes raking through the darkness for possible enemies.

And in the background the wedding festivities carried on through the night. A seething Morgoth was aware in the throne room of his dark fortress and his servants scurried around and did their best to avoid his rage. Even the light from the Silmaril in his iron crown could not console him.

"This is _not_ over." He cried to those hateful siblings of his in the West. "I will hand you your Herald's bloody head on a platter Manwe alongside that of his puling mortal wife and the body of his unborn child. You will _not_ win this war."

Sauron stayed in his quarters and licked his wounds. He promised a painful revenge on his brother Maia. He would see him debased and suffering, oh yes he would, him and that mortal chit he had married, he would possess her if it killed him, her _and _that wretched child.

ooOoo


	57. It ain't over 'till it's over

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 2**

**Carrie**: Later that day I got to thinking about relationships.

There are those that open you up to something new and exotic,

those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions,

those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that

bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back.

But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship

of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find

someone to love the you that you love, well, that's just fabulous.

**- Sex and the City**

**Chapter 57 **– **It ain't over 'till it's over**

**The Forest of Dean, present day**

The small gathering of scientists and soldiers around the portal through to another dimension was steadily growing. An anxious Chief Constable under pressure to explain to worried and angry families why their husbands and fathers were missing stood beside a high ranking military General who was also under pressure from families of missing personnel. The only difference between the two being that he was also under pressure from the highest point of government in the land to explain how this breach between two time-lines had occurred and what the security ramifications might be.

Despite much valuable work done by the scientists on site and the sending through of yet more personnel including Dr Rob Norman the chief scientist, the actual reason for the breach was still not really known. The only good thing was that communication of a sort had been established between those lost back in time and those in the here and now. Hence the arrival of extra people on the ground.

The General's much harassed Aide de Camp glanced around as an ambulance pulled off the now well used track and parked up. Two paramedics and a doctor also dressed in the typical green 'Peapod' coveralls jumped out and started to check through equipment.

The General raised both bushy grey eyebrows at his flustered junior officer.

"Just in case sir." The Aide replied to the unspoken question. "We don't really know for sure what kind of shape they might be in."

"Humph." The General grunted non-committally. "I'm surprised we haven't had the Sneaky Beakies sniffing around demanding that they all be put into quarantine the moment they step through!"

The Aide de Camp's blush grew deeper and he pointed silently at three grim-faced people, two men and a woman and dressed in plain clothes who were standing and staring fixedly into the portal as though they could will it to spit out the human beings it had taken in the first place. The General followed his Aide's pointing finger and sighed. "They just can't leave well alone can they." He turned to the Aide. "Get me the Minister for Defence on the blower would you? There's a good chap."

The Aide immediately produced a mobile phone and speed dialed London. A few minutes later the General was connected directly to the office of the Minister in charge of Defence. "Hello? Is that Julie? Hello my dear, yes it is, I thought you recognized my voice. Let me speak to the minister would you. Can he be interrupted? It's with regard to this Forest of Dean situation. Many thanks."

A scant twenty minutes later, the three Military Special Branch operatives simply got into their black car and left the area. The Chief Constable who had bemusedly listened while the General spoke to the Minister for Defence in buddy terms, came to the conclusion that the two were obviously golfing partners and that some arrangement had reached a decision satisfactory to both parties.

He himself had been watching the Military Special Branch operatives with some misgivings. He truly didn't believe that any of the personnel who had been thrust through into a time that was not their own would be a security danger or breach. He strongly felt that they would be more likely to be confused and perhaps injured or traumatised in some way. The idea that the two of his personnel who were on their way back could be thrust into some military quarantine situation until the authorities decided they were no danger to an overly security conscious world absolutely horrified him. He could just imagine the battering he would get from families and god forbid if the ever-hungry for news, rabid media got wind of it. They would have a field day.

Therefore it was with a distinct sense of relief that he saw the operatives get into their car and drive off. Of course that didn't mean the returnees wouldn't have to have some sort of debriefing, because they would, but at least they wouldn't be made to feel immediately as though they had committed some awful crime just by being alive or in one piece.

The ambulance, medical authorities, military and police weren't the only ones beginning to gather. The Chief Constable also noticed two very out of place looking people standing talking to one of the scientists who was obviously in full flow, waving his hands at the portal and talking animatedly with them.

The General noticed him watching them and jerked a thumb in their direction. "Hostage Recovery folk." He said briefly. "They are here to assess the mental well-being of our people once they come through."

The Chief Constable frowned. "Surely they don't believe that our people have been hurt in any way? I mean…I understand that they have not exactly been hostages."

"No, as far as we know they haven't, but they will have gone through some rather traumatic experiences if what we believe about that earlier time is true. Especially young Sergeant Freeman. She had a traumatic experience which she was recovering from _before_ they were all pulled through the portal. It's anybody's guess as to how _she_ has been coping. We're simply taking no chances." The General said quietly. "At any rate, being specially trained Trauma Counselors, the Hostage Recovery debriefing team will be by far the better people to deal with them initially than Military Special Branch folk. That lot can't help interrogating, even when it's a social occasion." He gave the policeman a sardonic smile and received a chuckle in return for his pains.

The Chief Constable nodded. "I know what you mean. The trouble is that there's a fine line between being an officer of the law and someone who actually breaks the law. You tend to get a bit hyper-vigilant. If you see enough of the bad side and that's usually all that policemen see, you start to see criminals and danger everywhere. It's an occupational hazard I'm afraid."

"Well soldiers aren't all that different, although we don't usually deal with the criminal element as such. We do get hyper-vigilant though, it comes with the territory I'm afraid." The General agreed. "People in defense of the realm in whatever capacity never seem to be off-duty."

The Chief Constable smiled. "No indeed, although I'm more of a pen-pusher these days. Sometimes I do miss being part of a busy investigation team though."

"I hear you. I'm nothing but a shiny-bum now as well." The General's tone sounded rather wistful. "They only trot us out when there's a major military action going on and they need a high ranker to field the blame on broad shoulders these days. Nowadays the moment you get to Lieutenant General you just know they are starting to look for the pasture they're going to tether you in."

This time the Chief Constable laughed out loud. He glanced slyly at the General. "I find it hard to believe you would just take that sort of thing lying down."

"Oh I don't." The General replied glibly. "I make it known that I don't want to be put out to pasture, I huff, I puff and I blow the damn house down, then I just listen to my wife when she wisely tells me to stop making a fuss, lie down and go quietly when my time comes!" He sighed. "The truth is I will miss the army when I retire, but I don't want to be one of these sad old military chaps whose lives revolve around the military long after they've ceased to be of any real use. You know the sort; chaps who still call themselves by their rank and make sure everyone else knows it. I just can't see myself living for regimental reunions and opening fetes. I can't see myself going into corporate big business either, although I've been offered a few Directorships, some quite lucrative. Corporate people are such a conniving, underhanded bunch of little toss-pots. The first signs of anything not quite right and I'd be wanting to lock 'em up in jail."

The Chief Constable laughed even harder at that. "I know what you mean. Well if you ever need a jail for the toss-pots, let me know. I'm sure we could oblige!"

The General chuckled. "I might just hold you to that." He turned to the Aide de Camp who was hovering. "What _is_ it man? If you have something to say, then spit it out."

The Aide de Camp flushed bright red. "S..sir, sorry to interrupt you sir, but we have had a message from Sergeant van Breda. They are about to head back towards the rift entrance on their side, but…there is _one_ problem."

"I thought there might be." The General sighed. "Nothing ever goes smoothly. What's the problem? Something we can do to help from this side?"

"No sir. At least I don't think so. It's about Major Matthews sir."

"Well, what about him?"

"He won't be with them when they come through sir." The Aide watched in trepidation as the General's face begin to turn a light shade of lavender and quailed a little. However the Chief Constable smiled encouragingly at him. "I think you ought to talk to the Sergeant sir. Major Matthews is there with him."

The Genera beetled his eyebrows in suspicion at his Aide. "Very well." He turned to the Chief Constable. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."

The Chief Constable smiled. "Of course, I hope everything is okay."

"So do I my dear chap, so do I."

ooOoo

**Camp of the Host of the Valar, Beleriand**

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay sir?" Dutch van Breda looked a little doubtfully as the Herald, resplendent in his full shining armour, sat down behind the modern comms equipment.

Eonwe smiled at him. "I _am_ familiar with the equipment Sergeant. I've used it many times in the past…er…future."

The Sergeant's expression looked even more doubtful. "Yes sir, as you say sir." He was finding it hard to reconcile the glowing, almost other-wordly being with a Major in Her Majesty's Armed Forces. The two just didn't fit somehow.

Eonwe laughed softly. "Perhaps if you let my wife. Sergeant Matthews, know, I think it better that we _both_ speak to the General."

The Sergeant came to attention, saluted and left the tent with alacrity in search of Kim, who was now of course Sergeant Matthews, not Freeman.

The Herald stared thoughtfully at the computer screen as Tulkas materialized by his side.

"Should it be empty like that?" The Vala enquired.

Eonwe replied to the question by moving the built-in mouse ball on the laptop console. Tulkas blinked as the screen leaped into life and showed a dialogue box awaiting an 'OK' command from the user. "Oh, I see." He squinted at the screen and could see the movements of the scientists and various other people in the background. "Fascinating! There are _people_ inside it! And such a small thing too. How do they make them fit?"

Eonwe forced back the gurgle of laughter which surged up inside him. "They're not inside it Tulkas. It's a bit difficult to explain. The picture is coming from the future. They are using the Rift and the remote link established by the unmanned aerial device between Sergeant van Breda and the primary operating point. The laptop is just a means to an end."

"Quite so." Tulkas gave him a quizzical look. "I keep forgetting that you have all of the knowledge from those future times as well as your own."

"The knowledge _is_my own." Eonwe replied quietly. "Given that it was the future me who learned about these things. I know it's hard to reconcile me and that future me called Gary Matthews, there are still things that I understand and yet I have no idea how I understand them. Like this." He gestured to the Vala. "I know what this is, I know how it works and I know what it's used for, but it is not knowledge I have sought out. It is knowledge that my future self grew up with and learned as he went about our life in that time, but I cannot for the life of me tell you the minutiae of that life. I can tell you specific events which have impacted and shaped feelings or decisions, I can even tell you what kind of car I have in that future time and even the address of the place where I live, but I could not tell you anything else in detail."

Tulkas sat down on the other chair and gazed intently at the Herald as he tried to filter through thoughts that were still mixed up with his own. "You are still having to sort his thoughts and experiences from yours." He stated quietly.

Eonwe nodded. "Yes. Sometimes they run into each other. As my aide helped me with the armour this morning after Kim had gone to collect her things together and I was suddenly assailed by a memory of sitting on a low camp bed in a green tent pulling on a pair of combat boots. I remember the fine dust and even the smell of the diesel and canvas. I even remember that breakfast was also in a tent and we had bacon and eggs. We constantly had to pick small flies out of the food and everyone joked that it was extra meat ration; I even know that the country was called Iraq, but I could not tell you where in Middle Earth it was or even my purpose in being there other than as a soldier of course. But yet the memory came as I prepared myself for the day ahead here in Arda Marred, as though it was part of it and yet I know full well that those experiences have many lifetimes and millennia between them."

"Diesel and canvas?"

Eonwe gave a brief sigh and nodded. "You see? Those terms pop out of my mouth and initially they have little meaning until I am called to question on them. Diesel is a fuel which makes the military vehicles run and canvas is a strong material suitable for tents." He flapped a hand at the Vala who had opened his mouth to say something. "Yes, yes, and now you will ask me what I mean by vehicle and why they need such fuel. I can only tell you that they are not pulled by horses or oxen. They move by means of electrical impulses and mechanical devices which need a combustible fuel to work. I can tell you the principle, but at the moment they are just facts to me, without substance or reality. I seem to pluck them out of the air at random, as though they exist in a separate section of reality altogether."

"It occurs to me that we had better not let you fall into the hands of the Enemy." Tulkas said shrewdly. "There is a lot of knowledge inside that head of yours that could be _very_ valuable to him."

The Herald chuckled. "In truth I believe he probably wants to completely _remove_ my head, not search inside it for knowledge!"

"That's as maybe, but I do think we need to exercise caution. It may be better if you did not speak of your experiences from that future time unless it is to me or the rest of the Vala."

Eonwe nodded. "Yes, I think so too." They were interrupted by the tent flat being pushed to one side and the Herald's personal duty guard ushering Kim into their presence. Eonwe's face lit up with an almost incandescent joy and he held out a hand to his wife. "Beloved, it is time to make our explanations to the General."

Kim sat down heavily on the chair beside him, her face a picture of dismay. "Oh god, do we have to? He scares the living daylights out of me."

Eonwe raised her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the palm. "Yes we do have to. If he ratifies the situation and the marriage it will make it easier for you and our daughter if we have him on our side."

"If you say so." Kim said gloomily.

Tulkas chuckled. "Would you want me to wait outside while you do this?" He made as if to stand up and leave but both Kim and Eonwe gestured to him to sit back down, so he laughed harder and remained seated.

Eonwe hit the OK on the dialogue box and another dialogue box sprang up in its place. Tulkas leaned forward with interest. The box showed a green dashed line progressing along inside the box and underneath it said 'Connecting'. When the green line reached the end the box blinked and said 'Connected' then it disappeared entirely to show the same background with the people milling around.

"What does connected mean?" The Vala asked, but at the same time he did a formidable craggy face with beetling grey eyebrows suddenly filled the screen. Tulkas jumped in his chair as a strident voice assailed them at the same time.

"Major Matthews? My Aide de Camp tells me you will not be coming back through. Why not? What the _devil_ is going on over there and _what_, in the name of all that is holy, are you wearing?"

ooOoo


	58. Past Perfect, Future Uncertain

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Tolkien's world, however Kim and Co. From the future do belong to me.

"Carrie: Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn't fall in love, or have babies, or be who we are. After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life and people go. But it's comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart. And if you're very lucky, a plane ride away." – **Sex and the City**

**Chapter 58 – Past Perfect, Future Uncertain**

They appeared silently, fringing the top of the ridge like in some old Western movie where the wagons are camped in a circle uneasily awaiting the impending arrival of the Indians over the hills. The only difference between that and reality was the fact that the undisciplined masses of Orc, goblins and whatever other monstrosities Morgoth had managed to cobble together into an army were only loosely corralled by the massive and fearsome creatures of Shadow and Flame, the Balrog Captains.

The thick forestation of the top of the ridge and the fact that the sun could not penetrate through the gloom and dark cast by the proximity of Angband and Morgoth himself meant that the shining Host of the Valar were not as evident as they normally would have been. There was no sound, no rattle of a bridle not even the sound of hot breath blown out of equine nostrils already flaring for the heat of battle. Elven horses knew when to be silent, as did their riders.

Finarfin and Ingwion sat their steeds on the left of the Herald of Manwe, the Vala Tulcas sat on his massive white charger at his right-hand side. All three were looking at the Herald whose steed Hafrod stood quietly waiting for the signal from his beloved master to charge forth into the very bosom of the enemy.

Eonwe gave no sign that he was about to issue the order to charge. His expression was ruminative and only the flicker of light in the back of his dark blue eyes and the firm set of his mouth hinted at his eagerness to be done with this, the final battle in this War of Wrath. There before him lay as it always had, the River Sirion which divided Eastern and Western Beleriand and the last remnants of the forces of Morgoth. Although the entrenched orcs, Balrogs and what was left of the Easterlings of Hithlum who had descended from the north to attack the flanks of the Elves were at least two leagues distant, the sharp vision of Eldar and Maiar alike had no trouble seeing them quite clearly and the terrain between them.

* * *

Thirty years had passed since Eonwe had stood on one side of a portal to another time and watched his beloved led reluctantly through the rift by Chief Knowles and Jim taking his heart and his unborn child with her. His last sight of her before an impatient Maedhros had gripped his arm and told him in no uncertain terms that it was time to leave was of her tearstained face turned over her shoulder as she strained to keep him in sight until the very last moment. It had almost broken him in two. Olorin had taken a swift step forward as if to comfort him when the Feanorian firmly turned him to his horse and bade him mount.

"The sooner it is done Lord Eonwe, the sooner you will be reunited." The red-headed Elf's tone was grim and uncompromising and it brought Eonwe down to earth with a bump. He handed the reins of the Herald's horse to him.

Eonwe took the reins and gently quieted his horse by stroking his nose. For a moment he rested his head against Hafrod's neck breathing in the scent of sweat and leather and desperately swallowing back the hot salty tears, then he set his jaw and swung himself up into the saddle. Maedhros gave him a grim smile of approval and also mounted his horse.

The Herald gave one last look back just as the shimmering portal flared into brilliance and then winked out of existence. The path between two time dimensions was closed.

"You are right Lord Maedhros." The Herald's tone was husky but firm. "Let's do this thing. Hanging around here won't buy the baby a new bonnet."

"Huh?" Rion whispered to Noruthalion who, with Melannen, had formed part of the escort to the portal. "What in the name of the Valar is that supposed to mean?"

Noruthalion, ever the pragmatist, shrugged. "I have no idea; maybe he is referring to his child? It is probably some strange future mortal thing."

If the Herald heard the whispered interchange he gave no indication. Instead he reined his horse around and urged him into a swift canter. The escort party resolutely turned in the direction of the camp of the Host, now being struck in preparation for the march to the banks of the River Sirion, the remaining barrier between them and the Hosts of the North, Morgoth's army.

Both Olorin and Maedhros sensed that all was now in order in the world of Middle Earth in the Second Age. Whatever disruption had been caused by the appearance of the portal and the presence of mortals from the future was now gone. Whatever mischief Morgoth and his lieutenant had planned by using the modern weapons of the mortals and the mortals themselves was now lifted. It was simply business as normal. Balance had been achieved.

* * *

Now thirty years on and many battles fought and won with some heavy losses and the departure of many sons of Valinor to the Halls of Mandos here they were assembled near the ford at Eithel Sirion over which Morgoth's troops had withdrawn after being strongly pushed back by Ingwion and his valiant Vanyarin troops at the Battle of Eglarest. The orcs and balrogs had been pushed back and then even further back from the shores of the river as the shining Host of the Valar and their Commander forced their way through and thence across the Sirion where the Hosts of Morgoth retreated and had entrenched themselves.

For a long while a long and bitter battle for passage over the river was fought by the Host of the West and the Host of the North. Only when Morgoth's armies drew back far enough away to avoid the wrath of the West could the Host of the Valar now ford the river and press onwards to the north where Morgoth sat in his fortress.

It had to be said that Morgoth himself had not been idle. Pushed back his troops might well be, but he still had a few surprises up his sleeve as those Valinorean vermin would soon discover to their cost. For deep below in the fortress, massed behind the secret gates from which all of Morgoth's crack troops emerged were the winged dragons and their captain Ancalagon, his ace in the hole.

However for Eonwe and the Host of the West, the last leg of the War of Wrath was about to take place. Many had stood in awe and watched as their commander accompanied by the only Vala present in Middle Earth and in amongst the host slashed, hacked and fought his way alongside his troops. They had seen him weep for the slain, they had seen him use what power he had to comfort and help heal the injured but always his presence was a banner to rally to.

There had been times when Tulcas had watched him closely, especially in the immediate years after Kim's departure, but always he had blanked off that part of himself and thrown himself into the task at hand. That had worried all of the Valar and his commanders, but after a while they had realised that all her departure had done was to make their Herald determined to see the task done as quickly and with as few losses as possible. To comfort his hurt and grief he had turned to the thing he always did best as mightiest in arms among the Maiar, that of being a warrior. It gave him purpose.

Eonwe shook himself out of his careful consideration of the ground and river between his forces and those of the enemy. He turned to Ingwion and Finarfin. "Your scouts and forward troops are in position over the other side?"

Ingwion saluted. "Yes my Lord, they left with Lords Maedhros, Maglor and their troops late last night and forded the river with no trouble. They have taken out the watchposts and the task was done so silently and swiftly even now the commanders of Morgoth's hosts are unaware that they have no eyes there. Our troops will be able to ford the river unopposed."

A grim smile hovered around Eonwe's sculpted mouth. "That was well done."

A slight feeling of regret passed over him when he contemplated the notion of the Feanorians. As the Herald of Manwe and the Oathkeeper of Iluvator he was well aware that whatever happened over the last two sons of Feanor, it would not end well for them. No matter how valiantly they fought, part of their fervour was to do with keeping the oath they had made to their father as he lay dying, a misguided oath that Eonwe had been forced to record with great reluctance and one which had seen the demise of all but two of the sons of Feanor and Nerdanel. It was _that_ oath that would be their ultimate undoing. Anything good that they did subsequently would be buried in the past and not remembered, therefore it was up to him to record and remember.

He became aware that his senior command officers and Tulcas were awaiting the signal to move out. The troubled look that had occupied his features cleared and he gave them all that blinding smile that signalled instant adoration and desire to follow him into the very pits of hell. "Very well gentlemen. I do believe the time has come. Let's cross that damn river and have at them."

He nodded to his commanders who then gave the order for the troops to move out and across the ford as swiftly as silently as they may. All along the ridge the archers remained. Along with Curunir and the other three Maiar of Aule, they would wait until last and if the forces crossing came under fire they would provide covering fire at strike co-ordinates already established by the forward team who had actually been in place among the enemy for at least two weeks giving back valuable intelligence of positions and strengths so that Eonwe and his commanders could plan their strategies. Once the main body of the army was over, only then would Eonwe lead the support arms, including healers and cooks, archers and the Maiar over the river to join the main body.

* * *

Lord Manwe Sulimo stood at his window to the east and summoned Thorondor, Captain of the Great Birds of Heaven.

The great eagle eyed his lord and dipped one huge wing in respect and greeting. "My eagles are ready and at your command O Lord of the Winds."

Manwe bowed his head and Varda came to his side in order to add her blessing to his as those winged troops began to form up in preparation for passage over the western seas thence to join the Host already crossing the Sirion on the last leg of their journey. This part of the war would decide all things and although Manwe despaired over his brother Melkor now fallen to dissipation, he had learned the most bitter lesson of all, he had learned to distrust him. Part of him knew that Melkor would have some parting shot and perhaps his last gift to his Herald and his valiant host was the mighty Eagles of the West.

Thorondor was rising into the air even as Manwe and Varda blessed them. With a final sweeping salute of one massive wing he spiralled off into the winds followed by his gallant troops. As he did so, Ilmare came to where Manwe and Varda stood watching the great birds dwindle smaller and smaller as they flew into the East. She waited respectfully for a few moments until Varda realised she was there.

"What is it Ilmare?" She smiled at her handmaiden who bowed her head.

"Earendil the Mariner is without my Lord, Lady, as was requested by you."

Manwe turned reluctantly from the window held his hand out to his lady and they proceeded to the marble seats they usually occupied in the audience chambers. He inclined his head towards Ilmare. "Then by all means child, do bid him enter."

Even as the tall figure of Earendil entered the audience chamber, Namo materialised by the side of the Lord and Lady. He nodded in respectful greeting to them and folded his hands inside the wide sleeves of his black velvet robes. In honour of the upcoming final battle and out of respect for the role he would play today, he was dressed all in black. He was not there as a fellow Vala, but as the Doomsman of the Valar and represented Iluvatar on this occasion.

Earendil strode into the chamber, stopped in front of the three Valar and bowed. The gleam from the single Silmaril set into the mithril fillet on his brow gleamed with a pure and incandescent light and was only just outshone by the shimmering power of the three Valar before him, especially that of the Lady crowned with starlight.

Manwe gestured to the Mariner who immediately dropped to his knees. The Elder King placed his hand on top of his head. "Hear ye O Mariner, child of the Eldar and of the Secondborn, to thou hast been granted the life of the Eldar and their fate to be bound to Arda until the end of days. This thou knowest as dost thou also know thine appointed task. However there is one more task that Iluvator and the Valar do ask of thou. Wilt thou hear Namo, Doomsman of the Valar and bear this task willingly?"

Earendil looked up eagerly at Manwe who smiled benevolently at him and held his hand out for the Mariner to stand. "I will indeed my Lord." He fervently clasped the Elder King's hand before releasing it and turning to the waiting Namo.

Namo stood silently for a moment and all was silent in the chamber. The Lord and Lady had resumed their seats and seemed in no hurry to chivvy the Lord of Mandos to speak. Earendil also waited, but for him it seemed that the time passed very slowly indeed and just when he was about to wonder whether anyone could speak at all, the Doomsman of the Valar spoke.

"Earendil, child of Tuor and Idril, thy ship Vingilot that which thou callest Foam Flower awaits thee. It has been hallowed by all of the Valar and given the blessings of Iluvator and will hereafter sail the airs and thou wilt guard the Door of Night. This thou knowest. However before thou commence thy journeys through the heavens we have a task for thee. Thee and thy ship will arise in the west. This thou also knowest. The light from the Silmaril bound upon thy brow will shine as a brilliant star in the heavens to give hope to those in a shattered world and let them know that the Valar have not deserted them. All those who see thee shall call thee Gil-Estel, Star of High Hope. Thy appearance will signal the beginning of the last battle of the War of Wrath. Yet even as the battle wages and those in the Outer Lands gain hope from thy appearance in the skies, thou and Thorondor will be called upon to perform the actions that will decide the battle for good or evil. Thee must be prepared, already the Eages have taken flight. Dost thou accept this charge?"

Earendil's heart nearly burst with pride. He knelt down one more time and bowed his head. "I will, gladly." He said simply and then looked up at the stern face of the Doomsman. "What of our children, the sons of Elwing and myself?"

Namo glanced at Manwe and Varda before answering. "Knowest thou that thy sons, Elrond and Elros have already been taken under the charge of the High King of the Noldor in Exile, Ereinion Gil-galad. They will not fight in the final battle with Morgoth, but will bear witness to it. At the end they will be given the same choice as any of the Noldor or those who remain in the Outer Lands, that of sailing to Valinor. However they have been granted an additional choice by Iluvator, that of choosing who they wish to stand with, the Secondborn or the Eldar. Our beloved Eonwe Herald of Manwe has been given the authority to proclaim this choice over them on our behalf." Earendil opened his mouth to speak, but the Doomsman stopped him before he could ask his question. "You will ask me of their choice and I will tell you this, Iluvator already knows what is in the hearts of his children but it is not for us to speak that choice out loud, it is for your sons, as Peredhil, alone to speak this for themselves and on their own account. _Whatever _choice is made, knowest thou that it has _always _been a theme of the Great Music from which we all spring."

Earendil felt the tears spring to his eyes. Deep in his heart he knew that his two boys would not make the same choice and his heart already ached for the one who would be left behind. He would know the bitterness of partings. The other would make the choice that Earendil himself would have made had it not been for Elwing. Yet even as the tears stung behind his eyes, he bowed his head in assent once more. "I understand." He whispered. At least he would be able to see them in his journeys across the skies and he and Elwing would be reunited with at least one of their sons in future times.

Manwe spoke. "Then you have our leave to depart child of Tuor and Idril and you take our blessings and those of the rest of the Valar and all of Valinor with you."

Earendil rose to his feet and gazed in astonishment, for as he had kneeled, all of the Valar with the obvious exception of Tulcas had materialised and the chamber was bright with their light. In amongst all of this brilliant purity of light, the Silmaril gleamed and was not dimmed.

He bowed to the Valar and left the chamber. His ship and his task awaited him.

At least he wasn't going to be totally left out of the fun!

* * *

**Vingilot:**

"Now when first Vingilot was set to sail in the seas of heaven, it rose unlooked for, glittering and bright; and the people of Middle-earth beheld it from afar and wondered, and they took it for a sign, and called it Gil-Estel, the Star of High Hope." – J R R Tolkien, The Silmarillion.

**Eonwe as Oathkeeper**

The idea of Eonwe as the Oathkeeper of Iluvator was taken from Fiondil and the many wonderful stories written by this author. It appealed to me because it gave another facet to an otherwise unfinished character of Tolkien's works, of which there were many! So all credit given to Fiondil for this and I hope my apologies for a slight plagiarism are accepted as it is meant sincerely.


	59. For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Tolkien's world, however Kim and Co. from the future do belong to me.

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee..." - **John Donne  
Meditation 17 - Devotions upon Emergent Occasions**

**Chapter 59 – For whom the bell tolls**

**Of the Feanorians**

"But what about you?" Elros took a step forward and grasped Maedhros by his arm. "Where will you go, what will you do?"

It took all of Maedhros' strength not to fling the young Elf's hand from his arm. His famed temper, granted to many of those with red hair, was irritated by Elros' continuing questions. All he wanted to do was to hand the twins over to Gil-galad who, with the Cirdan the Shipwright was waiting off to one side watching the interchange with a troubled look on his face. He noticed that Elrond was already standing beside the High King and his mentor as if he had long since chosen his path.

_Well what if he has?_ Maedhros' inner voice, which usually took on his Atar's tones, spat at him. _What is it to do with you? There was never any love lost between you anyway. You only spared them because of Maglor._

But if that _was_ the case why did Elrond's immediate action of allying himself with Gil-galad cause a stab of pain?

Even in his anger Maedhros was aware of the Herald standing quietly in the background. Eonwe made no move to intervene and the Feanorian could simply not look into those dark blue eyes and see the compassion there. Part of him wanted to fling himself into the Maia's strong embrace and deny that damned oath even as it battered away at his conscience and ached for absolution, yet the other part was filled with an irrational rage which could not be quenched.

He shut his eyes tightly for a few moments, but all he saw, as if imprinted on his eyeballs, were the stormy and fire-filled eyes of his Atar as he wrung that hideous oath from his assembled children even as the life frittered away from him. His hands clenched into tight fists.

What right did any parent have to ask such a thing of their children?

_The right of a father, the father who helped give you life, who nurtured and taught you. _The sardonic Feanor voice, a trifle weary now, shot back at him.

"What about _my_ life?" He whispered and tears of anguish burnt behind his eyeballs. "What of my life and my rights Atar? Are we _all_ to be sacrificed on the altar of the Silmarils, the altar of your conceit and folly?"

Gil-galad bit his lip and made as if to step forward, to comfort Maedhros, but Eonwe's firm hand on his shoulder stopped him dead. He looked up questioningly at the Maia who shook his head.

"You can do nothing for him Ereinion." He said softly. "His choices were made long ago, oaths were taken. Even now his allegiance to his father wars with his desire to be his own man. Yet _none_ of Feanor's children truly ever belonged to themselves. Even before birth he filled them with his own fire and Nerdanel's own more gentle flame was not strong enough to gainsay him. She withdrew from them all at the end simply because she knew that she was only ever the vessel that held them. She was not the tether that bound them to the family or to life."

"Is there _nothing_ we can do?" Gil-galad's gallant heart was filled with sympathy for the tortured Elf Lord.

"The scene is set, as it was set long ago. The characters are assembled and the play must go on as it was ordained. Maedhros and Maglor's fates and those of their brothers were sealed long ago by their father. A chain of events has been set in motion by the actions of the very creature we are sent here to vanquish and terrible acts have been committed in the name of freedom from the yoke of the Valar, acts which will never be wholly forgotten." Eonwe smiled at the High King. "Yet are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And not one of them shall not fall on the ground without Iluvator's knowledge."

Gil-galad stared at the Maia for a moment and then looked at Cirdan who was standing with a comforting arm around Elrond's shoulders. The Shipwright had said nothing, but a faint smile quirked around his bearded lips. He glanced over at Maglor who had also said nothing during the interchange, but was standing quietly by, his hands clutching his horse's reins.

M aglor's private words to his young charges had already been spoken the previous night and many tears had been shed by all three, but a certain resignation for his and their ultimate fate had been engendered in him. He was now calm and ready, he hoped, for what was to come. What _was _utterly surprising to him was to see his brother's usually stoic and firm acceptance of their situation shaken slightly. Not once in all their long yeni of upholding the oath had he seen Maedhros shaken. Yet the recent events surrounding Eonwe and his bride had seen him hesitate in his actions for the first time.

His eyes met the Herald's and what he saw in them made him catch his breath. The Herald knew! He knew what was coming and how it would end. He wanted to find some comfort in those wise, ageless eyes but he knew even as he tried that everything had gone too far to be brought back. Their path was laid out before them, all they could do was follow it and hope for an ending of some kind. His gaze dropped and he sighed.

In the meantime Maedhros had turned and gently moved the restraining hand from his arm.

"What about us?" He said as lightly as he could manage. "Why, we will do as we have always done, will we not brother?" He shot a look at Maglor who kept his eyes on his feet and mumbled something which may or may not have been assent. Maedhros lifted Elros' chin with one slender yet strong finger. "Grieve not for us little one." He said softly. "You cannot help us now and nothing can be gained from you staying with us. At the end it will be as it always has been, just Feanor's boys standing shoulder to shoulder and fulfilling their oath to their Atar. You have no place with us; your place is with your kin, our oaths and grief are not yours. You have your whole lives in front of you and they are better lived with Ereinion and his people. In any case we are not going anywhere, we still fight with the Host for Middle Earth as long as Lord Eonwe wishes it and even if he did not we would still fight on our own account."

The tears which had long been threatening behind Elros' eyes spilled over and down his cheeks. He looked over at his twin to see that Elrond was also silently weeping. "We will see you again?"

Maedhros looked over at Eonwe and then smiled at the young Peredhil. "If Iluvator wills it." He said softly.

Eonwe noted that he did not say if the Valar willed it, but smiled his approval anyway. He knew that Iluvator had plans for the last two Feanorian children, but it was not his place to either say so or utter any words of comfort. Their punishment still awaited them and must yet be endured.

Elros smiled tremulously at the red-haired Elf Lord and allowed himself to be led over to where the High King stood waiting quietly. Maedhros lifted the Peredhil's hand and placed it in Ereinion's.

"They are_ your_ charges now." He said quietly. "May they find the peace and happiness now that they deserve and never could have had in our care."

Ereinion nodded. He wanted to speak, to say something comforting, but his throat was thick with tears, so instead he just wordlessly took Elros into his embrace. The young man buried his face in the High King's shoulder.

Maedhros bowed to the Herald. "We will move out now my Lord and join the forward scouting groups." He said formally.

Eonwe bowed his head. "My thanks Lord Maedhros, we will expect your report as usual." His tone was grave, but Maedhros was slightly startled to see a twinkle in the dark blue eyes.

"You do realise that if we get a chance to take the Silmarils we _will _take it?" Maedhros said shortly.

"I would expect nothing less than you would at least try." The Herald's reply was simple and laced with amusement.

"Just so you know."

Eonwe bowed. "I consider myself forewarned."

Maedhros gave a soft laugh and strode over to where his brother stood with their horses. They both mounted and just before he rode off Maedhros saluted the twins, Eonwe, Gil-galad and Cirdan with his sword. "Until we meet again gentlemen."

And that was the last either Elros or Elrond saw of Feanor's last two sons until the very end of the War of Wrath.

* * *

**Kim**

The late afternoon sunlight gleamed through the large picture window and bounced off the large plasma television screen. She grunted with annoyance as she sat back on her heels and watched the scene playing out on a daytime soap. Getting up to switch channels was desirable but not immediately achievable. Her swelling abdomen made getting up from her kneeling to a standing position a balancing act worthy of Cirque de Soleil these days. She managed to get a grip on one side of the sofa and tried to lever herself up to her feet. Unfortunately the protruding belly countermanded her efforts and she found herself wobbling backwards and forwards on her back like one of those Weeble toys.

_Weebles wobble but they don't fall down_. She laughed to herself a little hysterically. _And if they do they can't get up again._ She started snorting and giggling which didn't help her to stand upright. Flora, the name she had christened her bump gave her a couple of encouraging kicks and then stuck her foot up into Kim's ribs causing a sharp pain which made her draw her breath in with a hiss.

"What exactly are you trying to do again?" She looked up to see the Chief standing over her. He had arrived at Gary's penthouse apartment fifteen minutes earlier and knocked but got no answer. On trying the door he had found it unlocked so he let himself in and watched Kim's antics in silence with no little amusement.

"Er...go through some of Eonwe...um... Gary's private papers?"

Chief chuckled. "Are you asking me or telling me? Here let me help you." He put out a hand which she sighed and grabbed and pulled her to her feet. "Can you actually see your feet?"

Kim shook her head. "Nope, she's either a very big baby or there's an army growing in there."

"Well going by her father I would say she's probably a very big girl." He knelt down and retrieved the box that Kim had originally be trying to get. "Is this what you were looking for?"

"I'm not sure. The solicitor seemed to think that Gary had made another will, other than the one in his possession. A later will or something. Apparently he made it out just before he was deployed to Afghanistan and because he left the UK so abruptly it never got as far as the solicitor's office." She sighed and sat back. "I know I have to find it, but I'm a bit worried about what might be in it. After all it was made prior to us meeting and getting married." She cast a look at the Chief. "To tell you the truth I'm not really sure what I am entitled to and what I'm not entitled to."

Chief Knowles sat down. "Kim, sweetheart, why don't you let me take care of all this for you? Martin says you are living back at the Sergeant's Mess as well. How come? Don't you like it here in Gary's old apartment? It's very nice."

In fact Gary's apartment was better than nice and it reeked of money, but nowhere in anyone's imagination could it be described as 'homey'. Light and airy, modern and minimalistic with light wood floors and wide windows with the occasional deep leather chair and small glass occasional table dotted about, it was about as far from a family home and as close to a bachelor pad as any place could get.

Kim glanced around doubtfully. "Hmm. I'm more the comfortable home with squashy armchairs and a nice cosy fire type really. This place has no atmosphere...no character. It's kind of temporary, almost as if he never ever intended to really live here. His personality is completely missing. I can't imagine what his room in the Officers Mess must have looked like."

"Which brings me to the reason I am here." Chief smiled at her. "Yours and Gary's marriage has come through on Part Two Orders (1) so you are now legally married in the eyes of the military as well as God. The CO has decreed that you can sort through the things in Gary's room. Who knows? Maybe the document you're looking for is there and not here?"

Kim stood up unsteadily and brushed the dust off her jeans. "Can I go there now?"

"I imagine so, no time like the present after all. I have permission to go in there with you to help you." He hesitated. "I thought perhaps you shouldn't really go in there without some support, so the new Adjutant will meet us there and take us up to the room. Are you okay with that?"

She smiled wanly. "Of course I am. He's quite a nice bloke really. Especially when the other officers were a bit standoffish when I was introduced as Gary's wife. He was the only one who was friendly."

"Well you have to understand it from their point of view. You weren't on the scene except as a Sergeant, then all of a sudden you are married to a fairly senior officer in the British Army. They're a funny lot Kim, very set in their ways and very controlled by etiquette. The younger officers were okay with you though weren't they?"

"Yes, but you could see that they were wondering why Gary had married me, although they were far too polite to ask." She frowned. "They probably wonder what Gary sees... saw in me."

The Chief gently pulled her to him in a hug and she hugged him back. "He isn't dead you know sweetheart." He said softly.

"I know." She mumbled into his shoulder. "But with all this legal stuff and people giving me all those pitying looks, it feels as though he is, because they obviously _think_ he is. The Missing in Action thing doesn't fool anyone. They all think he's dead and now I am left behind, pathetic and pregnant."

The Chief sighed. "I know what it looks like to them, but you know that Gary is not dead. He is alive in Eonwe."

"I already tried to tell myself that, but one question keeps stumping me every time." She plucked at a stray thread in the fabric of one of the chairs. "Eonwe couldn't come back with me because he had to command the army in the War of Wrath, but that was back in the past... way past in fact. But he isn't commanding an army now is he? He's somewhere in that Valinor place being the Herald of Manwe and doing whatever a Herald does. The War of Wrath is long since over. He's been there for ages, thousands of years and he must remember that I am here...we are here..." She corrected herself to include the baby. "So why wasn't the present him here waiting for us? You know that there was someone else before me in Valinor don't you?"

The Chief nodded. "Yes, I do and I know what you are thinking. You think that after being among his own kind he's thought better of coming back to be with you."

"Yes." She whispered. She looked up at him with large fearful eyes. "Do you think he has?"

"I think you have been stuck here in his empty apartment for too long. I think we need to go and get a nice drink and a pub lunch and then I'll take you to the Mess."

"Do you think he's coming back?" She persisted stubbornly.

Chief Knowles took both of her hands in his own and gazed earnestly at her. "Yes, I do think he will come back for you, I'm just not sure how it will be done. Think about it. The manner of his return cannot be the same as it was before. He isn't Gary Matthews any longer; there is no way that Eonwe, a Maia with all his considerable power could fit into the role that Gary played. To play that role Iluvator had to wipe his old memories and make him grow up here as a normal human being. That can't happen a second time. His return to you was always going to be dependent on how Iluvator would place him back to carry out the tasks he was supposed to originally carry out and now you and the baby have to be fitted in with it. You may have to resign yourself into them declaring him missing believed dead after a while before he can come here and you can both start anew."

He prepared himself for a rush of tears but to his surprise all she did was go over to the window and gaze out. After a moment of silence she turned to him. "I guess so. We never really had time to talk about it, but part of me knows that he won't be allowed to return until the time is right. Flora-Dora here will be born by the time they sort it all out. I always knew he wouldn't get here before the birth."

The Chief quirked an eyebrow at her. "Flora-Dora?"

She giggled and patted her swollen belly. "My name for Miss Bump here."

"Somehow I just can't see Eonwe going for that as a name." He responded with a chuckle.

She shrugged. "Well, Eonwe isn't here is he? He's just going to have to live with my choice of names when and if he ever gets here won't he? In the meantime, I've been thinking that I might make a few changes. Once the legalities are over and done with I think I will sell this place and buy a family house somewhere nice, perhaps in the country. Somewhere a child can grow up in and not a nice antiseptic mausoleum." She grabbed her jacket off the back of one of the chairs and slipped it on. "Did you say something about a pub lunch and a drink? 'Cos I am starved. You do realise I'm eating for two don't you? Are you paying?" She grinned at him and he laughed.

"What, with you currently pulling a Major's salary and the money you'll make from selling this place? Not bloody likely! You're paying for sure Mrs Matthews."

She seemed to be resigned to her situation and the Chief might have believed her 'I don't care' act if it hadn't been for the pain at the back of her eyes.

_You'd better get here quick Eonwe_. He thought savagely. _Because if you and that lot over in Valinor do anything to hurt her or make her cry I will personally find my way over to you and beat your heads in with a shovel._

* * *

Part 2 Orders: A British Army administrative function designed to recognise all personal occurrences on a soldier or officer, i.e. marriages, births, deaths, change of name, change of marital status etc.


	60. Healing and Punishment

**isclaimer: See previous chapter**

"If I should die, think only this of me:  
That there's some corner of a foreign field  
That is for ever England. There shall be  
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;  
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,  
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,  
A body of England's, breathing English air,  
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,  
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less  
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;  
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;  
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,  
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven."

**- ****The Soldier – Rupert Brooke**

**Chapter 60 – Healing and Punishment**

**The Forest of Dean circa 2007**

**Alun**

Alun Davies was having a dream.

It wasn't a bad dream as dreams go, it certainly wasn't as bad as most of the dreams he had been having since his return from another time dimension as his wife could readily bear witness. Many a time she had sat in the window seat during the night and watched anxiously, gnawing at her nails as he struggled with whatever demons were torturing him. Many a time she had pleaded with him to go and see the doctor only for him to reply, as he always did, that he didn't think the doctor could do anything for him.

Instead she and their children watched him staggering off to work with dark shadows blooming under his eyes. He had lost weight and his temper was uncertain, although his family knew that he restrained himself with them. Sometimes his weariness bubbled over into his dealings with them and he seemed on the edge of a kind of insanity. Those were the times when he quietly left the house and wandered down the paths of nearby Forest. It was the only place he felt at peace, among the trees and nature, the only place he felt safe.

Safe? Where had that come from? He was in England, still one of the safest countries in the world to live, there was really nothing to threaten him, yet in his dreams he was threatened and when the worst of the dreams happened to him it seemed to his wife as though all the life was being leached out of him, leaving him grey and indeterminate, a mere hollow shadow of himself.

However this night, even his wife could see that the dream he was having was not an unpleasant one. The dark fear that was usually cast across his sleeping features was absent, instead he looked bewildered and a little bemused. The crease between his eyes seemed to be questioning something.

She sat, like a sentinel, and watched him as he slept and dreamed. She watched until the first light of dawn streaked through the night skies.

"Mum?" The boy, her son, whispered quite close to her and she jumped nervously. Had she been asleep? She swung her legs off the window seat and glanced over at the sleeping form of her husband in alarm. In doing so she dislodged the warm travel rug that someone had placed over her.

She blinked at her son and realised that he was holding a gently steaming mug in his hand. "Is he...?" She dared not say anything else or put her fears into words.

"He's fine, he's asleep, has been for a couple of hours now." Her son handed her the mug and she took it gratefully. "I went to let the cat in and I saw you sitting in the window seat so I guessed Dad was having one of those dreams so I came up. You were asleep and so was Dad so I put the rug over you and stayed." He gestured at the armchair in the corner of the bedroom.

"You're a good boy." His mother reached out and tenderly straightened that stray lock of dark hair which had never lain flat, not since he was a toddler. "But you should have woken me, you have to get off to work soon."

The lad smiled at her and sat down on the window seat beside his mother. "It's not a problem. I wish you would wake me and we could take turns watching over him. You try to do too much. It's wearing you out."

She sighed. "I honestly don't think he can take much more of this. I don't even know what's actually wrong with him, but sometimes when he is sleeping I can see a black cloud hovering over him and I know it's from that thing..." Her voice filled with fear and distaste. "That thing that tried to take us all. Wherever he was taken to, he has not come back whole. Even the doctor doesn't know what to do with him, all he can do is suggest anti-depressants. Flipping doctors, they're about as much use as a chocolate teapot! All I know is that my husband is fading away in front of my eyes and I can't do a damn thing to stop it."

"Well at least whatever he is dreaming about this time seems happy. He's smiling." Her son pointed out and her gaze followed his.

Alun was indeed smiling and it was as if the dark clouds that constantly hovered around him had thinned and the sun had broken through.

As if on cue, the weak early morning sun did break through the trees outside the window and a shaft of watery sunlight struck the bed right across Alun's face. He frowned and awoke to find his wife and son standing at the foot of the bed staring anxiously at him.

"Morning all!" He smiled at them. "What time is it?"

The boy glanced at his watch. "It's 6 am."

"Ah." Alun sat up and reached for the dressing gown on the bottom of the bed. "I guess it's time to get up then. I think I might take the dog for a walk in the forest before I head out. Must point Percy at the porcelain and jump into the shower quickly. Any chance of some breakfast love? I am famished." He slipped into the dressing gown and kissed his wife on the top of her head before padding into the bathroom.

She and the lad gaped at him. When was the last time he had got up in the morning and suggested doing anything other than sit quietly at the table sipping his tea and pushing his breakfast around the plate?

The lad grinned. "He should have more of those dreams. Maybe it's the beginning of him getting better. Shall I put the kettle on?"

"Eh?" His mother stared at him blankly. "Oh, yes, please and could you give your sister a shout. She takes such a long time getting ready these days. Anyone would think she was glamming up for a club, not going to school."

"Not before I get in the bathroom. If she gets in first I'll never get to work." He left the bedroom whistling cheerfully and all she felt was relief as the atmosphere in the house lightened. Something, or someone, had chased those dark shadows away and whilst they were still hovering in the background, they were being kept at bay.

It _had_ indeed been a good, if a little confusing, dream. Alun let the hot water steam over him and luxuriated in the warmth that was pervading his body and making runnels in the foam from the shower gel he had slathered all over himself.

How long had it been since he had felt this warm? Not since that awful time that he had awoken in Morgoth's fortress in Angband and seen the dark form of Sauron waiting for him. He _had_ felt some warmth again in the presence of the Elves and the Maia during his time in Middle Earth, their light had at least kept the shadows at a distance and especially that of the dynamic warmth of the two Feanorian brothers, Maglor and Maedhros.

Their fire was not so easily quenched by the dark and fell presence of Morgoth and his followers. They had fought against him for too long. He knew of their fate of course, Maedhros had died, as he had lived, jumping from the frying pan into the fire, quite literally in fact. Maglor had wandered Middle Earth for many millennia always staying on the very fringes of the most western point of any continent, his gaze hungrily ever watching the West. Yet something told Alun that he was no longer doing that. He hoped with all his heart that the elf was home with his family, but something else told him that it would not be quite as easy as that for him.

Lady Varda Elentari, the Star Kindler, had come to him in his dream last night. She had not spoken of the Herald or any of the others. She seemed currently unconcerned with any of the events that had taken place in lost Beleriand, now long since sunken into the sea. Her concern had obviously been for him and, like that waking dream so long ago, she had taken him to that sea of quiet safety that was called the Blessed Realm and there the Valar of dreams, Irmo, had shown him that he needed to go into the forest to the place where the rift in the fabric of time had been when he awoke. That it was, in fact, imperative that he do so.

He started to ask why, but she had just smiled at him and stepped back. Then he had become aware of Lady Este, a quiet lady dressed in grey, coming to his side and calming the shadows. He'd wanted to stay awake and see the calm wise faces of the Valar surrounding him, but Lady Varda had merely laughed that starry tinkling laugh of hers, placed a slender hand on his forehead and bade him to sleep.

"All in good time my brave mortal." She said softly. "All in good time. But until then you must do our bidding. Go to the place where the portal stood, there you will find the answers you are seeking."

Then Este had placed her hand also on his forehead. His heavy eyelids grew heavier still and he sank into the first restful sleep he had experienced since that awful evening when he had been taken from his world and placed in a world where he did not belong.

* * *

**In the Forest – Maedhros circa 2007**

The dog was having a whale of a time. This was an unexpected bonus, this foray into the dark green, loamy depths of the Forest where each bush beckoned with tantalising smells of small animals and other delights to be rooted out and there were plenty of trees, enough to make any dog feel it was in seventh heaven. In addition, the human had not put him on the leash.

So he heedlessly dashed and scrambled here there and everywhere, scuffling and snuffling at exciting hidden things. He rooted out a hedgehog from under a bush and tried to play with it as it desperately tried to scramble out of the way to safety. He barked sharply when it rolled itself into a protective ball and after a while of trying to nose at it and getting his nose prickled by the spines in the bargain he gave up and rushed off in another direction entirely chasing yet another tantalising scent.

He was not called to heel by his master and therefore was the first of them to find another creature sitting quietly on a fallen log whittling away at a piece of wood with a knife and singing to itself.

The dog was immediately aware that this was not a normal human. A faint glow spilled out from under the hood the creature wore and it gave no indication that it had seen the animal, but the dog knew it had been seen. He dropped to his haunches and cocked one disreputable silky brown ear, the ear that had been split by the long raking claws of the family cat when he had been too boisterous as a puppy. He hadn't made that mistake again for sure!

He whined as the figure continued to take no notice of him and crept forward a couple of feet. The figure did not move, but just continued the whittling. However the hooded head was now raised and watching the animal as it crept closer. The dog whined again and then gave a sharp imperative bark as if demanding that the figure identify itself.

"You, my furry friend, are disturbing the peace." The voice was light, musical and held no threat. "I am thinking that you are not alone though, so where is your master?"

The dog sat up and gave a short bark, then he stretched and yawned and flopped down beside the stranger. His long pink tongue lolled out of his mouth while he panted slightly and he rested his chin and drooled slightly on the stranger's booted foot.

"Ah, I see." The stranger looked up and around at the trees. "The trees tell me he is not far away and indeed I can hear him crashing through the undergrowth. He is looking for you." His tone was severe as he looked down at the dog, but the animal could also hear amusement in it. "You are probably in terrible trouble, but I suspect that this is not an unusual situation for you. Just look at the state of my boot!"

The dog showed how much he cared about being in trouble by yawning widely again and closing his eyes firmly.

A sharp whistle sounded in the forest probably only a few yards away at the most. The only recognition the dog displayed was by twitching one silky ear. The hooded stranger smiled to himself. "And here he comes..."

"Coco? For god's sake, you stupid bloody animal, where have you hidden yourself?" The voice sounded exasperated, but not angry. "What on earth possessed us to allow the kids to name the dog? Coco, what kind of bloody silly name is that?"

The hooded figure chuckled softly and glanced down as the chocolate brown shiny coat and feathered tail. "Coco is it? I can see where they got your name from my friend."

Alun stopped dead in his tracks. The first thing he registered was that this was the place they had emerged from the Portal. Even in the few months since that had happened Mother Nature had already begun to repair the ravages left by scientists, military boots and the detritus of humans, yet still it was recognisable.

The second thing he registered was the presence of the object of his ire, but the dog was not alone. A tall slender hooded man sat on a fallen log. He whittled a piece of wood with a sharp knife and did not glance up at the newcomer.

Alun stared suspiciously at the man, but no threat emanated from the casual figure and the dog didn't seem to be unhappy. "So there you are." He said softy and the dog's tail thumped gently on the forest floor. " Good morning. Nice morning for a walk."

The stranger looked up at that, his features were not evident inside the darkened hood but Alun could see the gleam of bright eyes. "Indeed it is my friend. Your dog has been keeping me company."

A vague feeling of recognition tugged at the back of Alun's mind. "Yes, I can see that. I'm sorry if he bothered you."

"He did not." Came the soft reply.

Alun shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. The figure didn't make him feel unsafe or afraid, but that peculiar sense that he knew him from somewhere persisted. He was also vaguely aware that he had spent more time walking the dog through the forest than he should have.

"I should be heading back." He said awkwardly and whistled softly to Coco. The dog ignored him and looked up at the figure instead. The thumping tail became more enthusiastic.

The stranger seemed amused. "Coco does not seem to agree with you Detective Chief Inspector Davies." He said mildly.

Now a thread of concern sifted across Alun's brain. Surely an agent of Sauron would seem more foul somehow, but one couldn't be too careful what with his dreams and all.

"I am not an agent of Sauron _or_ Morgoth Alun." The voice was soft but still pleasant.

"Well you know _my_ name it seems." Alun kept his voice calm with great effort. "May I know whom _I _have the pleasure of addressing?

The man laughed, light silvery laughter which Alun recognised. "You wound me Alun. Could you have forgotten so soon?" He stood up and Alun took a defensive step backwards, however the man made no gesture more threatening than reaching up to push back the hood which had, so far, concealed his features. The dog looked up at him in adoration and the tail-wagging reached new heights of ecstasy.

Long shining red hair fell free across a pale slender face in which bright green eyes shone like jewels.

Alun took a step forward this time. "Lord Maedhros?" He exclaimed incredulously. "What in the name of heaven are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead and in the Halls of Mandos!"

Maedhros chuckled. "Er...yes... well I _was_ there, and now I am here."

"I can see that, but _why_ are you here." He stared intently at the red-haired Elf Lord. "And you have both of your hands!"

Maedhros stared down at his hands thoughtfully. "Yes, I do don't I? I can assure you no one was more shocked than I was, but apparently they don't re-embody the Eldar _without_ all of their limbs intact it seems, or so I was informed by Lord Namo."

"I must admit that I'm surprised to see you re-embodied at all!"

Again the chuckle. "Yes, it would seem that my meditating on my many heinous crimes is to take place in incarnate form instead of wandering aimlessly in the Halls."

Alun gave a disbelieving bark of laughter. "So they sent you here to the hell that is modern earth? Now that's what I call cruel and unusual, yet wholly appropriate, punishment!"

Maedhros was silent for a moment and a strange expression flitted across his handsome features. "Yes indeed it is. It seems that a sojourn in the very place where my crimes were committed is to be my immediate fate and punishment. But, be that as it may, I come with many messages from the Valar, messages that your good lady and your family need to hear. Decisions need to be made." He smiled at Alun. "Shall we repair to your home?"

Alun nodded speechlessly. "What messages, what decisions?"

Maedhros lifted his finger and the dog immediately sprang to his feet and ran a little way along the forest path. "As to that my friend, it will be better if we speak when we reach your home. This forest is old and friendly, yet its eaves can still give shelter to things that are not so friendly. The earth is old and there are still many dark places and things hidden in it."

The policeman shivered and looked around him. At the Elf's words a cloud had appeared across the sun and what little sunlight that was filtering through the trees was momentarily obliterated.

"You're right. Let's head back. " He could only vaguely imagine his wife's reaction to him bringing a seven foot tall beautiful Elf back with him. The cloud drifted away on a soft warm breeze and sunlight sifted through the blanket of green leaves once more.


	61. Grief, Goodbye and Survival

Disclaimer: See previous chapter

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

**Note: **Many thanks to all those who reviewed. I always appreciate it when people take the time to do this, but I apologise to those I have not yet answered! Just a warning, this is a slightly longer chapter because it's leading up to many meetings

"A Platoon Sergeant and his Platoon Leader are bunking down in the field for  
the night. The Platoon Sergeant looks up and says, "When you see all the  
stars in the sky, what do you think, sir?"

The Lieutenant replies, "Well, I think of how insignificant we really are in the  
universe; how small a piece of such a grand design. I can't help but wonder  
if what we do truly means anything or makes any difference. Why? What do  
you think of, Sergeant?"

"I think somebody stole the damn tent." **- Random Military Humour**

**Chapter 61 – Grief, Goodbye and Survival**

**Brighton, England circa 2007**

**Maglor**

He wasn't sure why he had awoken so abruptly except that the dream he had been having was vaguely disturbing as they often were. These days he felt so stretched and thin that falling asleep at the drop of a hat had become rather embarrassing.

He pondered whether this was what was meant by 'fading'. Perhaps he wouldn't become invisible; although there were times he ruefully wished he could become so. Perhaps fading just meant that you felt as though there wasn't enough of you to get to the end of the day. Sleeping these days, intermittent though it was, had become a blessing of sorts on a good day and a curse during a night of bad dreams.

It was the eyes that did it, he decided as he wandered into the kitchen of his apartment to put the kettle on for a cup of tea. The eyes of those whose lives he had terminated whether they deserved it or not stayed with him. They were the last things he saw in the night before sleeping and the first things he saw when he woke up. It had been the identical luminous, fear filled grey eyes of those twins so very long ago that had finally stayed his hand and made him see the terrible path he and his brothers had embarked upon all those millennia past.

He poured the boiling water from the kettle into the cup on top of the tea bag and the milk and leant against the window staring out over the rooftops at the glittering surface of the Atlantic Ocean waiting for the tea to brew.

At least that's what they called it these days, once upon a long time ago he had known the Atlantic by another name. However it didn't really matter what it was called, William Shakespeare had once written "What's in a name?" a sentiment that he had wholeheartedly concurred with. Whatever it was called, to him it was the ocean that divided the East from the West and it was to the West that his gaze was constantly dragged these days.

The fact that this and the living room windows looked out onto that ocean were the principal reasons he had finally settled on the south coast of England in place of what was now called Brighton.

The city of Brighton, now laughingly called the 'Gay Capital of the United Kingdom', had its beginnings in Saxon times in the 5th century. An ancient Saxon farmer called Beorthelm had owned a farm in the southern area of England called Beorthelm's Tun which gradually grew into a rural fishing and farming town, the farmers farmed on the cliffs and the fishermen had their houses along the foreshore.

It was at that time that he had stumbled on the small town after his many wanderings along the coast and discovered that, out of all of the mortals he had met, the inhabitants seemed to be the friendliest and the most accepting of a ragged stranger with long wild dark hair and who never appeared to get any older.

For a long time he had lived in a small isolated hut almost on the beach and kept himself to himself, only appearing occasionally at a feast where he would play and sing. There was a reason for not getting too involved; the situation for most of the Saxon people at that time was difficult to say the least. The political situation in England or indeed any other country was constantly unstable and subject to violent upheavals. He did not - would not in fact - get involved in anything that meant he would hurt another creature.

That didn't mean that he wouldn't defend himself of course, as many a robber or person with ill-intent discovered to their cost. His sword was slender, curved and keen and his arm was strong, stronger than it looked. His was a lean, whipcord strength and anyone who saw him stripped would have seen a body with well-defined musculature and a six-pack the average celebrity would have died for.

Time drifted on for him, although it must have seemed short, tumultuous and bloody for the mortals around him. The Middle Ages and the Brighton Charter to become a market town came and went. He reluctantly agreed to act as part of their twelve man council which only selected another member when one died and was amazed when they showed no concern or made any query that he seemed to live for so long or appeared not to age.

He was present when the French came to burn the town down in 1514 and burn it to the ground they certainly did. Not a difficult achievement for the French given that all the buildings were wooden. He helped in the rebuilding of the town only to have the French return twenty nine years later to have another shot at razing it to the ground again.

This time he had been one of those who had convinced the rest of the council to place beacons at specific places in Sussex and along the coast as an early warning system. The French arrived only to be faced by the wrath of an Elf Lord and a very angry crowd. They were driven back forthwith and apart from the gradual encroachment of the sea he had witnessed few other incidents apart from the gradual decline of the town due to the ongoing series of wars between the French and the Dutch which prevented the fishing vessels from going out to fish.

Maglor, son of Feanor, Spirit of Fire and Kinslayer had lived through many ages. He had watched the domicile of his choice grow, be burnt down, decline and then grow up again as a result of Dr Richard Russell of Lewes declaring in 1750 that the bathing in seawater was good for the health.

This had resulted in first a trickle and then a steady flow of the fashionable world of the rich and mighty travelling to Brighton to 'take the waters' and subsequently gave Maglor the best laughs of his life to watch as the bathing contraptions were wheeled down to the sea and their occupants were lowered into the 'health-giving' seawater. Especially since if they had just looked a little further out they would have seen a completely naked wildly beautiful elf disporting himself in the freezing waves like some sea otter!

The Prince Regent, then the Prince of Wales, came with his friends and Brighton was duly put on the map as a fashionable watering place and somewhere to be. Maglor watched in bemusement as the Regency rich and aristocratic members of the Haut Ton lived and played out their scandals during the Brighton 'season' and was a popular performer in the many turreted, oriental themed Pavilion during the balls and assemblies held there. In his private opinion the beloved summer palace of the Prince Regent was the hugest carbuncle on the face of the landscape, but he did set a good table with fine wine!

He especially found favour with the ladies, who were fascinated with his wild, dark beauty and the air of tragedy that followed him around. They regularly compared him with the equally wild and beautiful dark poet Lord Byron which caused him no end of sardonic amusement. Maglor had met Lord Byron in London and saw no similarity in that handsome, but dissolute member of the aristocracy to a life and war-hardened elf who had seen a colourful panoply of violence, war and beauty paraded before his ancient eyes age after age.

The building that Maglor now resided in had been one of the first brick built buildings put up in the rapidly developing town. It had served him well down through the centuries, even surviving the German air raids of a modern age that destroyed five thousand other houses and buildings.

He owned the building – had done so for many years – and had gradually built up his life and his bank balance to the point where he had no need to perform in public, yet he still did occasionally, when and where it suited him. He lived on the top floor of the building and wanted for very little. Indeed his needs were very few. He kept in touch very sporadically with the only other known members of his species remaining in Middle Earth. Thranduil with whom he had ridden out the Ice Age down in those caverns belonging to the Elven King of Eryn Lasgalen whose forest, once known as Mirkwood, was now part of the forests of Rumania and Transylvania. Also Celeborn who was also still lingering on this side of the ocean.

Maglor had been stunned to receive a messenger millennia earlier from Thranduil who had tracked him down and warned him of the impending series of cataclysms which were all showing the Elves, ever in touch with nature and the earth, that something nasty was coming. Thranduil suggested that Maglor may wish to join him and the remaining members of his prior Woodland Realm in the safety of his underground retreat.

This invitation had surprised Maglor immensely, no more so than the realization once he arrived at Thranduil's stronghold that not only did the Elven King know Maglor was still alive and wandering the coasts of Middle Earth, but that he seemed to harbour no resentment at the kinslayings of so long ago.

"Water under the bridge." He had declared softly when Maglor and the messenger had duly presented themselves at his court. "I could not, in any event, allow one of our kind to be overtaken. We are few, we who have opted to stay in Middle Earth. We need to stick together."

Another such group of refugees had ridden from the lands that used to be the haven of Imladris, headed by Celeborn, Prince of Doriath, still stubbornly refusing to be drawn over to Valinor and who was ably aided and abetted in this by his two grandsons Elladan and Elrohir, also stubbornly ignoring the call to join their parents.

They had greeted Maglor with reservation, but were friendly enough. Celeborn who had not been born in Valinor and who, after many millennia has passed now held no particular grudge against anyone, rapidly mended whatever bridges that still needed it and for five thousand years they watched as the ice crept inexorably over the majority of the northern hemisphere forcing whatever human life there was left alive and had not succumbed to the intense cold to migrate further and further south.

Of course the race of the Elves is a hardy one and the extreme cold did not keep them from regularly going to the surface and foraging whatever they could. Eventually as life began to evolve again and as it seemed that these forays were getting more frequent, it was obvious that the world was returning itself to another Age. Game in the shape of the mammoth, bear and other mammals became more plentiful and the rising temperature began to melt the huge ice sheets, this time causing massive floods over the ensuing centuries.

The degradations of the insidious creeping ice had eventually destroyed whatever had been left of ancient habitation either by humans, elves, hobbits, dwarves or any other species. Mostly the Elves had feared for those of other races left outside the protection of Thranduil and his realm, but Elrond's two sons had been assured by the Hobbits and the Dwarves at least that they would seek shelter on their own account.

The sad thing of this was that, although Maglor and Elrond's sons went in search of other signs of life once the ice had thawed and receded, they found very little left of humans and nothing at all of the dwarves or the hobbits.

The once proud city of Gondor was gone apart from a few lumps of rock which _may _or may not have been part of the stone walls of the city. The ice had altered what used to be Moria to the point where Celebrimbor's famous doors were now an indistinguishable part of the surrounding rock face of an apparently impenetrable mountain range.

Parts of Imladris had come through, but not unscathed and neither Elladan nor Elrohir had the heart to remain in Middle Earth any longer once they had seen the beauty of their former home reduced. Their links with the line of Elessar and Arwen were now severed. If any of their line _had_ survived they were scattered to the four corners of the earth.

A few scant months after the end of their search they, Celeborn, Maglor and some of Thranduil's warriors as escort travelled to where the Grey Havens had used to stand, thinking that it too would have disappeared.

To their surprise, some of the delicately wrought parts of the docks of the Grey Havens _still _stood, including the quay from which the Ringbearer's ship had departed so many millennia ago. At least the part closest to the actual water did, the rest had crumbled like everything else, including the tall tower of Elostirion on the other side of the Gulf of Lhun that had once held a palantir.

Even more surprising was the sight of a tall ghostly white ship moored at the dock and at her helm the most familiar and distinctive figure of Cirdan smiling broadly around his silver beard.

Both of the twins knew why they had been so drawn to go there and they knew that their grandfather and the others had also known. The ship had come to take them home. It was time. Their long watch over Arwen and Estel's descendents was effectively over. It was with glad hearts that they looked towards the ship that would take them back to the loving arms of their mother and father. However, even as they stepped lightly towards the gangplank, they were aware that their grandfather had not moved from his position on the quayside.

"Daeradar…" The twins started back to him, remonstration and questions in their eyes, but their grandfather clasped them both gently in his arms.

"This ship is for _you._" He said softly, tears prickling at the back of his eyes.

Elladan had looked aghast. "But what about you? Daernaneth…" His voice trailed away and Maglor had moved away to a distance, not feeling that he had a right to be part of this conversation.

"Your Daernaneth knows that I will not be arriving with you." Celeborn said gently. "She understands my reasons and knows that it is not time for me to yet leave. However _your_ time is now come and you _must_ leave."

Elrohir buried his face in Celeborn's shoulder. "You do not think any of Estel and Arwen's line have survived." The flat statement was muffled and his voice sounded thick with tears.

Celeborn sighed and his eyes met those of Maglor who smiled back in sympathy. "If there _are_ survivors of the line, and I admit I have my doubts, then you must trust Thranduil, Maglor and myself to recognize them for what they are. If we find them rest assured we will _continue_ to watch over them as best we may. In the meantime, I have packages and letters for your Daernaneth and your parents and Thranduil has some for Legolas."

The twins stepped back and swallowed down the tears that still threatened to overcome them both and received the packages from their Grandfather.

Maglor remained in the background. He had greeted Cirdan civilly and received a courteous greeting in reply, but there was no indication that his presence was welcomed on the vessel, although the Shipwright's eyes had twinkled slightly at the sight of him in the company of Celeborn and his grandchildren.

Elrohir however stopped in front of the Feanorian before stepping onto the vessel. "Is there nothing you wish us to take back with us Lord Maglor?" He said politely. "No messages you wish to send?"

Maglor stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. "None that any would wish to hear, I think nor are there many in existence to hear them… except…" He hesitated.

"Except?" Elrohir persisted.

"If you should happen to make the acquaintance of my Amille, the Lady Nerdanel, please send her my love." Maglor's voice had dropped to a whisper. "Tell her that I…I am sorry." A tear tracked down his lean face. "Desperately sorry, for everything."

Elrohir clapped a comforting hand on Maglor's shoulder. "I will tell her. I will find her and make _sure _she knows." He said softly.

Maglor inclined his head and smiled. "My thanks."

And that was the last he saw of the sons of Elrond. He and Celeborn had not travelled back to Thranduil's underground home, but instead had gone their separate ways and as life restarted and the modern eras of human civilization revved into action they had all been swept up and had not had the opportunity to stay in touch regularly apart from the occasional missive sent by messenger or lately by the unlikely medium of email.

In fact it was the soft ping of his email notification that brought him back to the present and his tea which was steadily brewing a darker brown and growing cold in the cup. He swore softly, scrunched the tea bag up with the spoon to throw it in the rubbish bin and spooned some sugar into the resulting rib-sticking brew.

He wandered into the nook beside the window where his laptop sat on the table and sat down thrumming his fingers gently on the surface. The notification told him that he had four email messages. Two were spam; one was the usual monthly long rambling email from Thranduil which he would read later on over some breakfast and one more. The sender of this email was not known to him, it simply read Alun Davies. He pondered the addressee, and wondered if this could possible be more spam.

However as he pondered, sipped his tea and grimaced at the strong virulent taste of an over-brewed teabag a sudden memory assailed him. He remembered a meeting with a young woman called Kim and subsequently a policeman called Alun Davies during the War of Wrath when he and Maedhros had still been chasing those elusive sirens, the Silmarils. He also remembered a wedding and as the memories started to come thick and fast, he wondered.

How was it that he had not remembered any of this before?

Could it be the same Alun Davies? And if so, how did he know that Maglor was still here in Middle Earth? And Kim…she had to be here and possibly now pregnant with the Maia's child! He feverishly looked for something with the current date on it, momentarily forgetting that it was in the taskbar of the desktop, the human predeliction for counting time and being obsessed with days and dates had not affected him since he never ran out of time.

Ah there it was...he did some rapid mental calculations and ransacked his memory for anything Eonwe, Kim or any of them had said which could pinpoint at what point in events they currently were. When he had finished he sat back, hand shaking as he groped unsteadily for his mug of tea, more to give him something else to think about than the momentous events that were probably about to happen.

He jumped up and swore loudly as the tea sloshed unsteadily over the rim of the mug and splashed the side of the laptop. He swept the device off the table just in time before the tea rolled to the end and dripped on the hardwood floors.

"Bugger, buggery, bollocks." He swore again and carefully placed the laptop on the dry end of the table.

By the time he had cleaned up the mess and re-connected the laptop again, he had decided that not only was he convinced that the email from Alun Davies was not spam, but also that he would actively try to find him and Kim if possible.

_It shouldn't be too hard_, he thought, _she was British Army wasn't she? And so had the modern version of Eonwe been British Army. What was the name again? Martin? Morgan? Matthews… that was it!_

He opened the email up and the first line of the message shocked him so much he practically stopped breathing.

"_Hano…_

_It has been a long time, I know, since we last met…..Alun Davies who we both met so long ago at Kim and Lord Eonwe's wedding managed to find your email address and has kindly allowed me to use his computer to send you this message…what a wondrous form of communication! Atar would have been fascinated! "_

His eyes swept downwards to the signature and he went rigid when he saw _"Yours Nelyafinwe"_ at the bottom of the screen.

His brother was alive. Not only alive, but in Middle Earth.

How? Why? And was this the reason why he was having his dreams once again?

He stabbed at the reply button.

ooOoo


	62. Truth is the first casualty of war

Disclaimer: See previous chapter

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

**Note: **Again, many thanks for reviews. This story has a way of writing itself so even when I sit down at the computer to pen a chapter I am often not entirely sure where it's going, who it will primarily involve or what will happen to them. I had originally intended to use the last chapter as a further sequence of events involving Eonwe, the end of the War of Wrath and therefore dragging Elrond, Elros and others up to date, but those dratted Feanorians had other ideas and Maglor clamoured to be heard. I guess this chapter will have to deal with the aftermath of the War and the happenings Eonwe and how he at least has been affected. I think you might be able to squeeze a few more chapters out of me before we get to the happy ending!

The quote below is a personal favourite of mine and I relate to it very strongly! I had my 40th birthday in the middle of the first Gulf War and it _was _just another day in the middle of nowhere!

"There are so many things I was sure I'd have in my life by now.

Every birthday reminds me of what's still not there. This just

turned out to be another day in the middle of nowhere."

-- **Margaret 'Hotlips' Houlihan** **– MASH 4077**

**Chapter 62 – Truth is the first casualty of war**

**Halls of Lord Manwe Sulimo, Taniquetil, Valinor circa present day**

Maglor was not the only one whose memory appeared to be failing him. Over the hills, far away and down the Straight Road, the memories of Eonwe, Herald of Manwe weren't doing terribly well either.

There were days when he went about his business with his usual calm, but a small furrow between his smooth and perfect brow could be seen, as though he was wrestling with some minor difficulty or perhaps he was having trouble getting a strand of venison from behind that pesky back molar. Whatever the problem was, the facial expression was the same. However he managed to overcome it all with his usual aplomb and grace.

Then there were the days when he knew damn well that he had forgotten something quite important. On those days, he could be seen wandering haphazardly when he would have otherwise strode calmly and decisively or stopping in the middle of his prescribed path with a distinctly panicky expression flitting over his perfect features.

It was on those days that Manwe would sigh deeply and a look of deep concern would flit across Varda's beautiful features. It wasn't that they thought for one minute that their faithful Herald was losing it; it was more the fact that they knew fine well what it was he had lost and in a way it had been _their_ doing.

And those days were happening more and more often now.

After Eonwe's return with the remainder of the Army of the Valar and prior to him travelling to Numenor to teach the new inhabitants the art of civilization it had occurred to Manwe and the other Valar that expecting their Herald to spend the next however many thousands of years in contemplation of happiness with his wife and child was a trifle unreasonable.

Many discussions had raged in the Halls of the Valar, the only subject being "What to do with Eonwe?" Did they allow him to remember but try to distract him with tasks in the hopes that he wouldn't fret unduly? After all, he was a Maia and he was supposed to be imbued with boundless patience, happiness and love.

"Pshaw!" Was Ulmo's irascible comment. "If you expect the lad to just sit there and say 'Ho hum, only another fifty thousand years to go until I see my beloved wife and my daughter' and then trot around gaily doing everything you ask of him then you _all _have windmills in your brains. Would _you _do that if that was happening to you? I don't think so!"

"But if we give him tasks to occupy him…" Poor Manwe was struggling. On one hand he was delighted that his beloved Herald had found love. On the other he was cursing the day it had happened. What he wanted was everything back as normal. Eonwe mooning all over the place and longing for his wife and child would not be anywhere near normal.

"Tasks?" Ulmo's silvery-blue eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "What do you intend to do? Work him to death every minute of every yeni that happens from now until the day he is reunited with them? That's a load of codswallop Manwe and you know it.

Manwe sank back further into the cushions as if he hoped they would swallow him up. The whole thing had been so badly managed. They should have acted immediately and swept the modern mortals up and back to their own time without delay. All of this could have been avoided. Gary Matthews would still have existed and he would still have met and probably fallen in love with Kim but it would have been fine and smooth sailing in the right place and time. Not smack dab in the middle of the First Age and the War of Wrath.

Not for the first time in his existence he cursed his brother Melkor for the meddling fool he undoubtedly was…among other less salubrious things.

Namo had been quiet up to that point. He didn't normally get in the middle of the various discussions mainly because he was the Doomsman of the Valar and therefore when he did have something to say people generally sat up with their ears pricked up and were goggling with attention because it was usually a life or death, doom or disaster declaration. However on this occasion he cleared his throat quietly in the hopes of slipping in his comments casually. It was a vain hope and Namo recognised the futility of it even as seven pairs of eyes immediately and expectantly swiveled to him. He took a step back under the onslaught and sought comfort in the sympathetic smile and presence of his wife Vaire.

"It is my understanding from Atar..." He began, only to be interrupted immediately by Manwe.

"You have spoken with Atar on this? When? What did he say?"

Namo turned to Manwe with a rapidly darkening expression. "_If _you would let me _actually _get more than a couple of words out at a time I _might_ actually get a chance to tell you." He said sarcastically, reducing the Elder King to the position of slumping back gloomily and muttering under his breath like a sulky schoolboy. Namo drew in another breath, cleared his throat again and fixed his dark forbidding gaze on the Elder King who, after being poked in the arm by his wife, subsided in his mutterings.

"Atar has given the matter much thought. Melkor's actions are as they have always been, solely devised to please his own idea of his importance in the grand scheme of things. Thankfully, with his capture, we can now perhaps see our way to easing some of the more pressing problems he has landed us all with. As we all know in the very far future Eonwe is sent back to Middle Earth in the form of a human, although he retained all of the attributes of a Maia, including immortality. Outwardly he looked like any other mortal human. Atar's reasons for doing so have not been revealed in their entirety and I am not permitted to tell what I do know. Melkor's meddling caused that state of affairs to be halted and the human version of Eonwe was thrust back into Middle Earth in the past along with his Maia alter ego."

"Yes, yes we know all of that." Ulmo interrupted irritably. His temper was not being improved by the reiteration of facts that he already knew and he hated being summoned from the deeps for anything, no matter how important. "For Eru's sake get on with it man!" He also then subsided into the deep cushions of his own chair, muttering something under his breath about people liking the sound of their own voices.

"You would think that after all the years of our existence since we sprang forth from the blessed Music that the art of patience would have been foremost on the learning curve. For the Ainur." Namo replied severely to which Ulmo snorted in derision and poured himself another glass of wine. "At any rate, in something like ten thousand years into the future of Middle Earth we will be at a point in time where Eonwe would have began his Middle Earth adventure, however because of recent events this cannot now happen and as Eonwe was not in a position to leave the command of the Host of the Valar in the hands of another commander he could not go back with his wife and just take his place there with the only change being that he was now a married man with a family on the way. The War of Wrath was not at a stage where this could have been achieved, so he had to stay. Now Eonwe is left with the aftermath of having to cope with knowing about his future wife and child for the next ten thousand years and the paradox is that he cannot join them now because neither of them exist at this point in time. They won't exist for another ten thousand or so years."

"I think I have a headache." Aule complained. "So… the upshot is that Eonwe will just moon around for the next ten thousand mortal years until he catches up with events?"

Namo nodded safely. "Essentially that is the situation and Atar, despite all seeming evidence to the contrary, _does_ understand that this is not a good situation, not for us or for Eonwe, therefore he has decided to mute the memories of all concerned with regard to the extraordinary events leading up to and beyond the period of time that the modern mortals were in a timeline not their own."

Varda had gone a little pale. "_Everyone's_ memories? Does that include us?"

"No. We alone will retain full memory of all events. And Atar of course, who forgets nothing. As the timeline for these events grows nearer, however, the veil put on the memories of all of those involved will grow thinner and they will start to remember."

"Eonwe has a very strong personality so I am not sure how effective this will be for him, but I admit that I am concerned with how the current situation will affect him in the long term if we allow it to continue." Irmo mused. "Therefore I agree that he certainly cannot carry on the way he is doing and be effective in his service to us. More importantly the strain on his wellbeing would be hideous, the child could not live with that for any length of time."

Namo sighed. "No indeed, which is why Atar has now decided not to just mute _his _memories but to remove them altogether. Not forever, but until such times as the time is right for him to have them back. It has still not been decided how he will rejoin Kim and his child, but in the meantime we will have our Herald back. In time as the memories return it will seem to us that he is struggling to remember an important event and when that happens we will just have to be patient with him. Hopefully by that time Atar will have decided on the manner of his return to Middle Earth.

Manwe's brow cleared. He rubbed his hands together. "Splendid, we get our Herald back, he gets some peace for a little while. As for his memories gradually returning, well we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

That was back then and now the bridge was looming. Eonwe's memories of his wife and unborn child were slowly but surely filtering back. Not in a flood, but more like a thin trickling stream. However the floodgates would eventually open and the Valar knew full well that the time was approaching when they would have to deal with the situation.

Iluvator knew that he would have to return the Herald to Middle Earth and in a way that would not cause any ripples in the prescribed events of the time. His plans were now finally reaching fruition. All the players were now moving into position in the playing field of Middle Earth and once they were all in place the act of bringing all the loose threads together could begin.

In the meantime Eonwe just felt as though he had left something somewhere and that it was vaguely important that he remember where and how to get it back. He had a niggling feeling that whatever it was, it had something to do with the events of the bygone First Age, most notably the War of Wrath. He just couldn't recall what and it was frustrating him beyond belief.

**Anfauglith, Beleriand Year 587 First Age**

Four times they regrouped and pushed forward, four times the dragons which had emerged from the very bowels of Morgoth's stronghold pushed them back. Billows of smoke and tongues of fire spewed in wide arcs and Eonwe could not help but compare them to a modern flamethrower, albeit a flamethrower with an attitude.

Not a one among the Host was not covered in soot and singed to some degree. Eonwe's golden armour was scorched with massive patches of blackened metal and he thanked Eru that he had the foresight to bind up his hair that day. More than one wounded warrior had been taken into the healers with raw patches of scalp showing where their hair had been burnt away.

This was a different kind of torture that they had to go through, but go through it they must. If they stopped pushing the enemy back they were lost, although he could tell that his troops were starting to lose heart. All around them were the cries of those burned beyond help and the smell of burning flesh and hair was almost unbearable. This brief lull in the dragons assault was heaven sent, but Eonwe knew that it was just a short respite. When they made their next assault his troops would probably fall.

"I need to rally them somehow." He said despairingly to Tulcas who was in as bad a state as Eonwe was, the ends of his thick golden braids were singed black. "The trouble is that they have the better of us in that they attack from the air. We are like sitting ducks. It's like shooting fish in a barrel."

Tulcas glanced over at where the dragon's massive black Captain, Ancalagon, strutted up and down marshalling his troops for the next assault. It was easy to see from the jaunty strutting of the creature that he and his black Master believed that it was all over for the now exhausted Host of the Valar. "I do not think that fishing is primarily on that evil abomination's mind Eonwe and unless we suddenly grow wings I cannot see how we can match airborne fighting. The archers are the best bet, their weapons are long range and can at least wing the creatures to bring them down to the ground."

"Fire." Said Eonwe suddenly. "Fight fire with fire. The native Americans in the Wild West did it all the time with oil soaked arrows, fireballs in the catapults. We must bring them down to earth, down to our level. We cannot fight them in the air. If we can bring their Captain down it might demoralise the others and bring them down too."

He turned to look for Curunir, but as he did so, the ground began to rumble and he almost cried out in despair only stopping himself at the last minute. He would not allow his warriors to see his despair. The dragons were making their final charge, the very earth would tremble under their combined weight knocking warriors off their feet. Once they were airborne it would be all over. There was no time left.

He gave Tulcas one last desperate look and the Valar winked and hefted his huge sword. This was their last stand and they would go down fighting until the end.

"I cannot stay here like a lamb awaiting the slaughter." Whispered Eonwe. With that he raised his sword over his head and his golden tones rang out over the shrieks and growls of the oncoming horde. "CRY GOD FOR ENGLAND, HARRY AND ST GEORGE!"

The strange battle cry and the sight of the tall Herald tearing onto the dusty plain to meet the oncoming foe energised and inspired all who saw him. Tulcas sprang after him after only a split second and the Maia warriors present with the Host followed him. Then the whole Host, those who could, were moving. It was a sight in the best tradition of a Hollywood battle scene and would have brought a tear to Peter Jackson's eye.

For one brief moment as the two bodies moved towards each other through the pall of smoke there was a lull in the noise and each side seemed to be performing a deadly dance in silent, slow motion but seconds later the screaming, shrieks of dragonkin and battlecries rushed back in cresting on a wave of sound and nearly deafened Eonwe, but far in the background he heard a tiny voice.

"The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"

And Eonwe nearly burst into tears on the spot as he turned his head and saw a flotilla of the giant Eagles of Manwe, with their Captain, Thorondor, at the head of the V formation. The sound from those giant wings whooshed over the host and for the first time since their release from Angband, the dragons faltered.

"They are grounded." Yelled Eonwe. "We have them..." And he charged into the fray hacking and slashing, knowing that his loyal warriors were right there in the thick of it with them.

Rion and Noruthalion were fighting alongside a tall slender but deadly warrior who fought with only one hand, his red braid flying around his face. His laughter rang out as he plunged his sword deep into the dragon they were busy killing and the hot acidic black blood of the creature spurted out in huge gouts which sizzled as they landed on the metal and mail Elven armour.

The Eagles swooped, ripped and tore with their talons and as the injured dragons fell to the ground the warriors finished them off.

In the meantime Ancalagon the Black, on seeing that a large number of his dragons were grounded and being killed had risen into the air to beat off the Eagles' deadly onslaught. Eonwe caught the movement of the dragon Captain as he rose into the air out of the corner of one eye and his heart sank a little until he saw a bright shining object, shaped like a ship in the midst of the eagles heading straight for the hideous creature.

"Vingilot!" He whispered and Tulcas broke into laughter. "Gil Estel indeed!"

Others with keen Elven eyesight fighting on the outside of the main battle area also saw the shining ship of Earendil as it smoothly ploughed through the air with its captain, Silmaril bound to his brow, at the prow.

Tears sprang to Gil-galad's eyes and he stood with the twins for a moment as their father fought Ancalagon, hand to hand.

It was a long and bloody battle Ancalagon swooped and tore at the Mariner and was answered constantly and relentlessly by long cold steel. Far below them Eonwe, seeing that the other dragons were dead and that the field was finally theirs, ordered a sweep up of any and all remaining fleeing soldiers of Morgoth. They were not to be killed, but rounded up and kept under guard. The stronghold of Morgoth containing its Lord and Master and his Lieutenant, Sauron, was still to be breached.

Even as that thought occurred to Eonwe, Earendil made the killing blow and the massive body of the dragon Captain, which could no longer maintain him in the air, came crashing down.

The cry went out from Eonwe and was carried on by the various Heralds for the troops to move away but it was crystal clear where the dragon's now limp body was heading. It seemed to take forever to fall and did so in an almost graceful fashion. When it did finally land, square on top of the stronghold, the whole building exploded outwards and the shockwave from the impact nearly flattened all who stood nearest.

They all watched in appalled silence as Angband, long the impenetrable fortess of the enemy broke apart like a wooden toy fort and the ground trembled. Massive cracks runnelled out from the base of the mountain that the stronghold was built into. They sped outwards and widened into chasms forcing the Host to move even further back. Eonwe watched in fascination as one such crack opened up under a small group of orcs. They were simply there one minute and gone the next.

He became aware of Ingwion and Finarfin standing in front of him, sheer joy and euphoria all over their fair faces. He blinked as they spoke to him and only heard the last part of a sentence. He realised that they were asking what his next orders were. He smiled grimly.

"Now we go for Morgoth." He said, in a tone so soft, yet so deadly, that his commanders and all who stood near him shivered. "But that part of this is not for you. I have other tasks for you. Only myself, Lord Tulcas and the Maiar with us will go into the deeps of Thangorodrim. This is our task as ordered by my Lord and I will not risk _any _of you children in this."

Finarfin opened his mouth to protest, but Ingwion gripped his arm and shook his head, so instead the High King of the Noldor bowed his head.

"What are your orders my Lord Herald?"

ooOoo


	63. The General, the Valar and the Darkness

Disclaimer: See previous chapter

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

**Note: **Firstly, many thanks to Dawn Searcher for suggesting an alternative to wind! My brain was refusing to function at that point in the chapter but I do realize that it sounded as though the stronghold of Morgoth had a bad case of flatulence! I did laugh when I read it over again.

Secondly, I had originally intended to bring this story to a close within a couple of chapters, but then I realized that because Kim and Eonwe's story carries on, I had to bring together all of the characters readers (and myself) have come to know and like. So I am trying to deal with all of them, give them all a chance to close their particular chapter in the tale and at the same time set out the problems facing both Eonwe and Kim and those immediately surrounding them.

The quote below means nothing specific nor is it relevant to this chapter, it just made me laugh!

"Charlotte: So, how are you?  
Carrie: I'm good, how are you?  
Charlotte: Great.  
Carrie: I told Aidan about the affair and he broke up with me.  
Charlotte: Trey and I never had sex on our honeymoon.  
Carrie: You win. (pause) So should we get more coffee or should we get two guns and kill ourselves?"

-- **Sex and the City**

**Chapter 63 – The General, the Valar and the Darkness**

**The Residence of the General Officer Commanding 4 Division, Aldershot, present day**

The General alighted from his car outside the Residence and dismissed his driver. Five minutes later he was wishing he hadn't. It wasn't that he was a man who was easily scared, but something in the way Mugger's hackles were rising and the low growl in his throat told him that there were intruders.

He took out his mobile phone and prepared to speed dial the RMP station. Mugger scampered on ahead and disappeared.

"Mugger…come back here to me boy." He tried not to raise his voice and draw attention to the fact that he and the dog had arrived back home, although if they were any kind of intelligent burglar or terrorist they should have seen the lights from the car and heard him slam the door and say goodnight to the driver.

Mugger however blithely ignored his master's voice and the General could hear him whining and scratching at the front door. _Well, so much for a stealthy entrance to catch them in the act, _he thought ruefully. He was just pleased that his wife was away for the weekend at her sister's house.

As he cautiously turned the corner on the pathway leading up to the front porch, he was surprised to see a soft glow from the main living room window, as though his wife had left a lamp on. Unusual for her if she had, she was a termagant when it came to saving power. She even switched lights off while he was sitting reading through his papers!

Now that was unusual. People with ill intent didn't generally switch a light on and blatantly advertise their presence.

Mugger was now barking, high sharp imperative barks which usually indicated that the person inside was someone he knew and who would let him in so that he could raid his biscuit bowl.

As the General stepped onto the porch the little dog looked up at him expectantly. The hackles were down and he seemed eager to get in the house. Of course it could be the head chef from the Mess bringing a meal over from the kitchen which often happened if his military PA remembered that the General's wife was going away somewhere.

He stood on the doorstep pondering whether he should just brave the unknown, open the door and go in with guns blazing…not that he had a gun, but his finger was on the speed dial ready to go, or perhaps he should just call them now.

Mugger barked again and the General decided to just go in, he could hardly stand dithering on the doorstep for the rest of the night anyway. It was all probably quite innocent. Competent terrorists did not leave lights on. They went in, did their business and got out, quickly and silently. If it was his time to go, then so be it. Burglars, by their very nature, were a little bit more messy, and they might leave a light on by mistake, but they would hardly stick around to wait for the householder to come home.

And whoever it was that was in his home was still there because he could hear footsteps in the passage.

He took out his key and prepared to unlock, but as he did so the front door suddenly opened to reveal a tall elderly man with shoulder length grey hair and a grey beard and surprisingly young looking bright blue eyes. He took a step forward and beamed at the General, who took a step back, grey eyebrows beetling together in confusion.

"Ah." The man chuckled. "Do I have the pleasure of addressing the much feared General Officer Commanding this military division?" Mugger took this moment to give an hysterical bark and he leapt up into the intruder's arms and starting licking him and fussing as though this was some long lost friend. The man laughed and submitted to having his face washed, then he pointed at the dog and shook his head, whereupon Mugger subsided, but his tail was revolving in a full circle like a helicopter rotor arm.

"You might." The General said cautiously. Mugger obviously saw nothing sinister in this man, quite the opposite in fact and in truth he rather liked the twinkle in the chap's eyes. "Are we acquainted?" He stepped past the man and into the large hallway, dropping his briefcase onto the hall table and hanging his cap on the hook before heading in to the lounge.

"Not directly." The man stepped through to the lounge behind the General, still holding an ecstatic Mugger who was being scratched behind the ears in exactly that pesky spot he could never quite reach. "However I believe I have a fairly long acquaintance with Major Matthews and his wife and indeed a fairly deep acquaintance with Chief Knowles."

He said nothing more, but remained standing with Mugger in his arms and a smile quirking the corners of his lips. The General turned to look at him properly and it was then for the first time that he noticed the glow that emanated from his erstwhile intruder.

"You…you're from that place." He said quietly.

The man laughed merrily and his bright blue eyes twinkled. "If by 'that place' you mean Valinor, then yes, I am very much afraid that I am, my name is Olorin and I am a Maia of the people of Manwe, although I tend to do more for my Lord Irmo these days than I do for Lord Manwe."

The General was completely taken aback. If everything that Knowles and the others who had been there through that rift in time had told him in their debriefing was true, then this 'being' before him was a sort of angel. At the very least a celestial being of power and indeed of light, since he carried that light within him.

Whatever he was, he was most certainly not a terrorist…or a burglar. Olorin laughed softly as he came to that decision in his mind, almost as though he knew what the General was thinking, but he said nothing.

He switched his mobile phone off and put it down on the table, an action that did not escape the sharp eyes of the Maia. "Well, I assume that you are here for an important reason. Can I offer you something to drink or eat? I suppose you have come quite a way." He gestured for Olorin to sit down which he did. Mugger sighed with contentment and settled himself down firmly on the Maia's knee.

"Nothing for me thank you." Olorin beamed at him. "Your cook was in earlier and was kind enough to make me some tea and find me some quite delicious cake to go with it."

The General chuckled. "I see you have a way of wheedling yourself into everyone's good graces!"

Olorin laughed outright at that. "It would seem so, although others have described it less delicately on occasions. As for the distance I have travelled, yes, I imagine it would seem a long way for your kind, but for me it was the time it took to have a thought. But please do feel free to see to your own meal. I understand one has been left plated for you in something called a 'microwave' in your kitchen."

Half an hour later, having been fed and watered, the General was settled in his usual armchair, facing his guest. Mugger had been safely ensconced now in his basket with his favourite chew toy and his blanket.

"So, I take it this is not just social call." The General leant forward in his chair slightly. "To what do I owe the honour of a visit from the celestial powers that be? Is that rapscallion Matthews ready to make his appearance back over here yet? Because I can tell you that his lovely wife is not far from dropping that sprog of theirs. The longer he stays away, the bigger the explanation he'll have to give her."

Olorin cackled with glee inside at the notion of the tall impressive and mighty Herald being called a rapscallion. That one would cause some laughter among the other Maiar. "Rapscallion is it?" He chuckled out loud. "Well bless my soul! But yes, it _is_ almost time for him to return which is, of course, why I am here. However I should tell you that I am only a messenger on this occasion and I am come to you with an invitation."

"What kind of invitation?" The General's tone was perplexed.

Olorin smiled at him. "I have been instructed by my Lord Manwe to cordially invite you to visit with him and his fellow Valar. I am also instructed to tell you that as the hour for Lord Eonwe…er Major Matthew's return approaches, it is necessary for you to be taken into their confidence, since you will…ah…have certain power and influence over this matter, on this side of the Straight Road. The Valar therefore wish to take advice with you on this."

The General's breath suddenly expelled sharply, leaving him with a slightly deflated feeling. He could hardly believe his ears. Celestial beings, angels or whatever they called themselves wanted to consult with him?

"I would have thought that they could do anything they wished whenever they wished it." He said bluntly. "My input could hardly be of any importance."

"Ah, but you see, we…they…cannot interfere in the free will of mortal man. Our time on this side of the Straight Road is long since over, the time of men came into its own and the Elves left these shores. The Valar renounced their lordship over events here, and although they were instructed to keep an eye on things by Eru, they feel that they do not have the remit to physically interfere with mortal lives." Olorin's voice was sad. "We, those of us of the Ainur and those of the Eldar, are bound to Arda until the end; we do not have free will as mortals know it. It was thought that once the world of men came into its own, we could then withdraw, hence our reluctance to become involved."

The General sighed. "I am not sure that we have been the better off for the non-interference policy, but I can see why they decided on it. I should tell you that my time as a senior ranking member of the military is very much tied up from day to day. How long would this meeting take? I suppose it would take me some time to get there since I can hardly travel the same way you do."

Olorin gazed at him intently. He could see that the General was a genuinely good, God-fearing man. He was taking all of this in his stride and obviously treating it seriously. Olorin had been concerned that he would have more convincing to do, possibly from behind bars if the General had taken him for some raving lunatic.

"Time in Valinor passes differently to the way time passes here in Middle Earth. Although it would seem to you that you were away for a long time, in truth it would only be a few hours of mortal time. As for the travel, I have special dispensation from Eru to take you with me swiftly and in thought. For this Eru will cause you to be temporarily unclad."

The General's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Naked? Dear god in heaven, I am not sure the world is ready for that sight!"

Olorin shook with laughter. "By unclad, I mean unclad of flesh General, not unclad of clothes. When we reach our destination you will become corporeal again and you will be wearing whatever you had on when we departed."

He found himself speared by the General's keen gaze and it struck him that in many ways, the General and the Herald of Manwe were very much alike. Eonwe, as Gary Matthews, obviously had the General's respect and that was essential because of the part he would have to play in the Herald's safe return to continue with the task as set him by Eru Iluvator.

"You mean now don't you?" The General asked softly.

Olorin met his gaze full on. "I am afraid so." He said gently.

"I can't leave Mugger on his own."

Olorin inclined his head. "Of course not and as it happens I have just the person to stay with him until you return."

As he spoke a tall young man, hitherto unnoticed, although how he had remained so was anyone's guess, appeared in the room. That was the signal for more effusive welcoming on Mugger's part. He jumped out of his basket and flung himself at the young man's long legs.

The newcomer was tall, slender and obviously not human at all. A glow also emanated from his pale luminous skin, not as strong a glow as from the Maia, but there nonetheless. His hair was a rich deep red colour, not ginger, but a genuine red, the like of which the General had never seen with or without a bottle of hair dye. His eyes were bright and green and his features were just inhuman enough to startle. When he bent down to pick the little dog up his long shining hair fell away across his face enough for the General to see that his ears were leaf-shaped and delicately pointed.

Olorin gracefully indicated him. "This is Nelyafinwe, son of Feanor. He is come to Middle Earth on the instruction of Eru and Lord Namo, Doomsman of he Valar to make reparation for past misdeeds. Once he has paid his dues he will be allowed to return to the Blessed Realm and take his place with his kin once more. You will find that Detective Chief Inspector Davies knows him very well and in fact he has been staying with the Inspector and his family. When he heard of my task, he volunteered to come and help."

"How do you do?" The General said politely. He was now quite sure that if he had any more shocks that evening he would be spending his time permanently at the Pearly Gates of Heaven, never mind visiting with the Angels for a few hours. "You're sure you don't mind looking after him while I'm gone? He can be a bit of a naughty little bugger. The Postman hates him. He runs up the path, throws the post on the mat and dashes back out again. If Mugger is loose he'd have his ankles as chew toys."

Nelyafinwe laughed, a lovely musical sound, and inclined his head. "I can assure you that the postman's ankles will be intact when you return General." His brilliant green eyes were alight with amusement. Like Olorin, his English was immaculate.

"Well… if you're sure… I had better notify the guard that you are staying the night then. Wouldn't want you and Mugger to end up in jail." He picked up the telephone, dialed and explained about his guest to the person who answered. Once he had put the phone down he turned to Nelyafinwe. "So you know Alun do you? Good sort of bloke, Mugger loves him. I haven't heard from him since his return though, is he well?"

The elf hesitated slightly and glanced at Olorin who nodded imperceptibly, as if giving permission for him to speak. "He is… as well as can be expected, although he has not been so. It has improved slightly though. I have been able to expel some of the darkness surrounding him."

The General coloured slightly. He cleared his throat. "Ah..yes, I had heard through the grapevine that he's been a little troubled since his return. Something to do with the way he was taken to…that other place I understand. I am guessing that you have been sent to help him?"

The elf inclined his head again. "I have and it is my pleasure to do so. Just as it will be my pleasure to look after this little one for you."

"Well, as long as Alun is okay to leave alone. Just help yourself to any food you might want, if you get hungry." The General sounded a little doubtful.

Nelyafinwe caught his gaze and held it. "My thanks General. Alun is fine and my brother is with him and his family. We are well used to this darkness and it will not come while we are there I can assure you."

Olorin cleared his throat. "General, we should go…"

The General twisted around and looked at the Maia. "Ah…yes…of course. What do I do? Do I need to do anything?"

Olorin smiled reassuringly and held out his hand. "Nothing at all, just take my hand."

ooOoo


	64. We are Family

**Disclaimer: Dammit, I own nothing!**

**Note:** I did just get very brief review with regard to Elves not sleeping, hence this added note. I am well aware that Elves don't sleep the way mortals thought of sleep. However, the path of Elven dreams was more like a waking sleep, but it _was_ a form of rest. Elves perhaps did not need to sleep per se, but they _did_ need to take a form of rest. Tolkien did seem to contradict himself on this, although the two quotes below from the book would indicate that Elves' needs with regards to resting took a slightly different form.

**Quote:**

"and he could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed ing the light of this world."

The Two Towers: _The Riders of Rohan_ : page 31

**Quote:**

"Legolas already lay motionless, his fair hands folded upon his breast, his eyes un-closed, blending living night and deep dream, as is the way with Elves."

The Two Towers: _The Riders of Rohan_ : page 49

Perhaps I should have been clearer, I have now adjusted the sentence to reflect the fact that I did state he had slipped on the path of Elven dreams which could be undertaken either while walking or lying down at rest. I hope this satisfies my 'critic'!

"Carrie : Wallis was right. The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don't, but in the end they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself."-- **Sex and the City**

**Chapter 64 – We are family**

**The Residence of the General Officer Commanding 4 Division, Aldershot, present day**

Maedhros wandered around the chintzy living room examining the family photographs in the gilt frames. For a few minutes Mugger frisked and gamboled at his ankles, but after a gentle admonition from the tall not-quite-human red-haired dog sitter, he went and lay down in his basket. However his adoring gaze followed the elf around as he looked at the photographs and then finally settled himself in the General's comfy high winged armchair that looked so completely at odds with the rest of the furniture the elf could only assume that it was a favourite piece of furniture.

Msedhros fiddled with the remote to the huge wide screen LCD TV in the corner of the room. He had only recently been introduced to the wondrous technical achievements of the Edain when Alun's son had painstakingly explained how to switch on the device and also work the cable's program system using the remote control. Maglor had only shown him how to switch on the kettle but refused to trust his brother with anything else.

The television blared into action with both light and sound almost immediately. Unfortunately it had been switched to an MTV music program and his elven hearing was assailed with the discordant sounds he had come to know in the past few days as 'modern music'. Not that to him it even vaguely resembled music. He _knew _music, it had notes, beautiful flowing golden sounds that rippled across the ears and which soothed or inspired. This cacophony was not music.

Maglor knew music, he even still played something he called a 'classical guitar' and he made some lovely sounds with Alun's piano which stood in the corner of the room and which Alun and his wife admitted, much to their embarrassment, nobody had ever learned to play. Maedhros decided that the guitar was much like a harp, although Maglor laughed and said that the only thing they had in common as far as the playing of them was concerned was the fact that they were both stringed instruments.

The appearance of two of the most beautiful men in the entire world had finally deprived Alun's usually vocal fifteen year old daughter of speech, something which the family were entirely grateful for. Every time she was required to interact with either of them she went bright red and on having to take a cup of tea into them in the living room she speechlessly and unceremoniously thrust a mug into the hand of each slightly startled elf and then flew out of the room slamming the door behind her.

The lad did a lot better in communication with them and both Elves gathered that he was the mainstay and support for his mother while Alun was unwell. There was no doubt in either Maedhros' or Maglor's mind that a fell shadow clung to the edges of this household, a shadow that was now only kept at bay by their presence.

Maedhros sighed and thought about family. Family were the people who, if you had nowhere else to go, had to take you in; but what of his family? Sundered and scattered, some, like Atar, in the Halls of Mandos never to be allowed to return until the end of Arda, his mother back with their Daeradar Mahtan and Daernaneth. His nephew Celebrimbor had also been released from the Halls as Mandos judged him to be more sinned against than sinning. He now resided in harmony with Elrond and his family in the Blessed Realm although he visited his grandmother and great-grandparents regularly which must have been a comfort for them.

They were the original dysfunctional family, a thought that made Maedhros give a brief chuckle. Maglor had laughingly commented that they put the D in Dysfunctional.

Maglor, of course, had never actually died or travelled back to atone for his sins. "He didn't even have the decency to fade like any self-respecting miscreant would." Maedhros had been told by Olorin that this was the general view of Elven society at this lapse of manners.

At the time Maedhros had glanced sharply at the Maia to see whether he concurred with it, but Olorin seemed to think it highly amusing as indeed it was. After all, Oropher's son and Galadriel's namby pamby Moriquendi husband were also both still here in Arda and neither of _them_ had faded either nor the elven folk who had remained behind with them. Although Maglor maintained that the idea of the flamboyant golden son of Oropher actually _managing_ to fade was quite ludicrous. Maedhros decided to reserve judgement on this until they all met up. He had never met Thranduil, who, like Elrond and Elros, had only been a stripling warrior during the War of Wrath.

Maedhros mentally went over his last conversation with Lord Namo, just before the Lord of Mandos had told him that he was to be re-embodied and sent back to Arda. He had not been given a set of instructions or commands, the Valar merely asked him to meet with his brother once in Arda and assess the extent to which the shadow that they now had portent of was rising.

They had kept an eye on the troubled policeman, Alun Davies, and decided that there was indeed something left over which had locked onto the fact that Alun had spent time at Morgoth's fortress. Whether it was a remnant or something which was actually growing and spreading like a canker needed to be assessed. These days modern mortals were not enough in touch with the world on a basic level to understand that many of the evils therein might be caused from the actions of one being so many eons earlier. Mortal man did not have the strength to fight that which it could not take on physically and face to face. The Elves and Ainur however, did and could.

This indeed was why the Maia Eonwe had originally been sent, to offset this shadow by his light and presence, however all that had been altered and exacerbated by Morgoth's interference and another route had to be taken.

Maedhros changed the channel and watched strife and altercation on Sky News. He sighed as scenes of carnage in some far off land held court along with a recent stabbing of a child in London and the latest celebrity idiocy. What in the name of Eru did it matter _how_ many children this Angelina Jolie, whoever she was, had? What _really_ mattered were the millions of unwanted children who _weren't_ given the chance to make something better of their lives.

Was all this violence, poverty and hunger the result of mortal man's inability to conduct their brief lives or was there some more evil and nefarious underlying meddling by some dark and ancient darkness?

Both Morgoth and Sauron had sown the seeds of darkness and discord deep within the very earth of Arda, neither the Eldar nor the Valar had any doubt that those seeds were nurtured and watered with the blood of Elves, Men and Dwarves, and indeed many other forms of life. They now lay dormant underneath the surface just awaiting sufficient encouragement to grow helped by the negativity and violence of an uncaring mortal society.

On one hand the achievements of man had been wondrous and considerable, on the other they had sacrificed what was left of their souls on the altar of insatiable wealth and technology. Society was slowly stagnating and throttling the life out of itself.

Hope was what they needed. And no sooner the word than the deed, here they were.

Maedhros laughed silently and helplessly until the tears ran down his cheeks and plopped onto his borrowed teeshirt at the ridiculous and terrifying notion of either he or his brother signifying hope to a mortal society on the brink of darkness and collapse. The Feanorian boys – the hope of the world – Arda had surely gone from the sublime to the ridiculous. From the wisest of the wise in Eldar society to the dregs of the Noldor Kinslayers. How absolutely priceless and ironic that it should come to this pretty pass.

The tears of laughter turned into tears of intense sorrow; sorrow for his baby brothers who he had held, played, fought and watched die, for his mother bewildered at what life and her wild lover and husband had wrought for her, for the tortured soul who had fathered them... and also for himself. A life not lived, a road never taken and a happiness not yet experienced. He had never taken a wife or known the joy of his own children and now here he was, a stranger in a strange land indeed.

The little dog sensed his strange fey mood and came over to paw at his leg and whine. Maedhros lifted the dog up on his knee. "Sorry little one. I did not mean to make you sad, what say you that we raid this cold storage cupboard of the General and his good wife and see what delights there are to eat. I have been very hungry since my release from Mandos, we don't get to eat there you see."

Mugger gave a short sharp bark and licked his face enthusiastically. He had no idea what a cold storage cupboard or Mandos was, but he did understand the word 'eat' and he was always up for a snack.

"I will take that as a yes." Maedhros fended off the ecstatic slobbering. He stood up and carried the dog into the kitchen where stood a huge double door refrigerator. He opened up one of the doors and grinned as he saw half a roast chicken, some cold sausages, some peaches, cheese and what looked like sliced roast venison in a clear packaging. There was also half a bottle of red wine. "A veritable feast my friend." He said to Mugger whose frantically revolving tail threatened to send him off into orbit.

ooOoo

After he and the dog had shared their feast they settled down in front of the television. Mugger curled up on Maedhros' lap and the elf didn't have the heart to tell him to go in his basket. In truth he needed the warmth of another living thing against him. The little animal's devotion warmed the depths of his frozen soul and filled him with hope that even _he _could find love and absolution.

How in the name of Eru had all this come to pass?

Maedhros stared blankly at the television screen, filled with movement, colour and humanity. It has ceased to have any kind of form, so sound and pictures were now just whorled together in a kaleidoscope of noise. He found his eyes were glued to the screen while his mind flew back in time. That damned oath, he could hear it even now ringing in his ears. They all swore, down to the last and youngest of them.

He had perfect recall of the day now, although much had been muted at his rebirth, as though he was trying to stare through cracked and clouded glass. His father tall, fair and wrathful, eyes glittering with bright fire and his usually long and lustrous dark hair springing around his head in eldritch witchlocks, fairly crackling with his anger, grief and desire for revenge. He raised his own sword aloft and his voice, always the voice of an orator, had rang out defying anyone there _not_ to hear his words.

"_Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean  
Brood of Morgoth or bright Vala,  
Elda or Maia or Aftercomer,  
Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth,  
Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,  
Dread nor danger, not Doom itself  
Shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor's kin,  
Whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh,  
Finding keepeth or afar casteth  
A Silmaril. This swear we all...  
Death we will deal him ere Day's ending,  
Woe unto world's end! Our word hear thou,  
Eru Allfather! To the everlasting  
Darkness doom us if our deed faileth...  
On the holy mountain hear in witness  
and our vow remember,  
Manwë and Varda!"_

And hear them, they did. All seven sons sprang to their father's side and raised their own swords, firelight from the torches glancing from one to the other and flickering across the faces of those who, willingly or unwillingly, bore witness, for the light of the Trees had been devoured and apart from Varda's starlight, darkness reigned across Aman. They repeated the oath even as Feanor spoke.

Maglor had hesitated only briefly before joining them, but even then Maedhros had detected doubt. He could see that Maglor, ever a more deliberate, thoughtful sort of personality compared to his rash siblings, wished to consider the ramifications of the death of his Grandfather, the Trees and the theft of the Silmarils before jumping into anything.

He laughed again, softly this time, but strangely enough without bitterness. The mortals of this age had a saying; 'you jumped from the frying pan into the fire' when they wished to indicate that someone had gone from a bad situation into one that was much worse. That day, they had all jumped straight into the heart of the volcano with one accord and their doom was set from that moment.

Oh he could see now where it had led them. Death for all but Maglor, and even he had endured a kind of living death living forever youthful, but bowed down with black and ancient memories among those who grow old and die in the wink of an Elven eye. He cast his mind back and tried to dredge up a memory of himself actually preparing to jump into one of the fiery chasms that opened up in what remained of Beleriand with the destruction of Morgoth and his stronghold with that accursed gem trying to burn a hole through his hand. In fact he hadn't so much thrown it in and jumped after it as realising that he _couldn't _throw it in _without_ throwing himself in afterwards.

At that stage it just seemed like a moot point. The pain from the gem had all but destroyed the only hand he had left, all was lost and living with no hands and the knowledge of all that he had done was just unconscionable. A moment of despair and then a moment of complete clarity in which he realised in a split second that this was meant to be _his_ end, his cross to bear and his burden to carry for all time. The Simaril _wanted _to go back to the earth from whence it had originally sprang so he granted its wish and let himself fall with it still stuck to his hand.

As he did so he heard a voice in his head, from whence it came he had no idea. It was a voice filled with tenderness and mercy, but also great sternness and, even stranger, approval.

"As it was ordained, so shall it be."

At first he thought it was Mandos having a final say, but then as his fea arose from the cinders that had been his earthly body Maedhros heard the summons of the Lord of Mandos and was stunned. Surely, given his sins and wrongdoings his fea only deserved to wander as a houseless spirit around the regions of Middle Earth he had haunted in life? Yet even as he thought that he found himself following the summons.

He finally faced the dread Lord of the Halls of Waiting, the Doomsman of the Valar and was astounded to hear Namo say: "Are ye not a child of Eru, son of Feanor?"

Maedhros remembered feeling shame and could say nothing. He did not even have an incarnate head to nod. Namo beckoned to him and although he was not aware of moving he suddenly found his fea standing beside the Vala. He was even more confused when Namo smiled gently at him, even though his eyes remained stern, like a father about to chastise a child.

"Are ye of the Eruhini child?"

"Yes my lord." It had seemed pointless not to answer.

"It is said that the fea answers the summons of Mandos when it still considers itself innocent. Yet, son of Feanor, thee are not innocent of your crimes are thee? But still thou camest."

There was no censure in the comment. All around Maedhros could now sense other fear and the brightness that surely had to be the Maiar servants of the Lord of Mandos.

"Yes my lord."

"Dost thou know why thou answered the summons, even with the burden of all ye have done clinging to thy fea?"

Maedhros raised his eyes to the Vala. He saw judgement, sorrow, pity and forgiveness in those dark eyes. "No my Lord." He whispered finally.

"Wouldst thou say that thy last act was one of sacrifice?"

Now Maedhros was confused. Sacrifice? Had it been that or just a desire to rid himself of the pain of the oath, the horror of what he had become? Yet at the very end he had fully realised that without the sacrifice of both the gem and himself, it would never end. He would be driven and driven onwards and ever would there be those who desired the Silmaril. He felt a tear slid down his cheek and wondered at it. How could he weep when he did not have a body?

"Yes my Lord...but... "

"Then my child, thy healing started there. Thy cry for release reached one whose ears are ever listening and thee didst his bidding without a second thought for thyself. Come child..." The Lord of Mandos stepped aside and Maedhros saw that they were outside a building with massive, dark, burnished doors. The door opened of its own volition it seemed and Maedhros looked at Namo who nodded. "Enter and be healed, child of Feanor and Nerdanel."

Deep in memory, a small sob escaped Maedhros and he shuddered. The little dog in his lap looked up anxiously, but then the elf relaxed and slipped down the path of Elven dreams. Mugger sighed deeply and settled down. The television played to itself in the corner and the firelight flickered. For the first time in a long time the eldest child of Feanor slept properly and deeply in the way of their kind.

The Lord of Mandos watched quietly and smiled to himself. For forgiveness to begin, one first had to forgive oneself. Maedhros had already started on that path.

ooOoo

_Eruhini_ – Children of Eru


	65. And Life goes on

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

Many apologies for the delay in posting. Ill health and extra treatment has made me tardy. I am obviously going to bring this to a close within the next two chapters and may start on a sequel very soon.

"[_Foggy and Clegg __are climbing a hill that provides a spectacular view of the surrounding countryside_]

**Walter 'Foggy' Dewhurst**: Every time I come up here, the spirit soars! You can't help thinking what a wonderful place it would be to set up a machine gun! Give me a small squad of hand-picked men and I could defend this place indefinitely!

**Norman Clegg**: How long have you been a nature lover, Foggy? " -- **The Last of the Summer Wine (BBC TV Series)**

**Chapter 65 – And Life goes on**

**The home of Alun Davies on the edge of the Forest of Dean, circa 2007**

"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" is a philosophical riddle that raises questions regarding observation and knowledge of reality. Maglor had indeed heard the saying many times, but since Elvenkind had superior powers of observation and a sense of reality far surpassing those of the Secondborn, the lack of sound from the forest was utterly deafening.

He stood on the path leading into the outskirts of the Forest of Dean with Coco prancing excitedly around him, running from bush to bush, snuffling out tantalising smells and looking for something to chase. Maglor's head was cocked to one sound as he filtered out the ever pervading sounds of the modern world such as aircraft high overhead and tuned into the trees and nature.

Maglor was not a Silvan elf like Legolas and his kin, or even as attuned as Celeborn and the elves of Laurelindorenan were to the language of the trees, but all elves had the ability to understand even at a basic level that the trees were alive and spoke often. Mankind seldom heard it, if ever and even the cries of agony from trees as they were felled were drowned out by noise from the buzzsaws and shouts of the tree fellers.

What worried Maglor today was not the sounds of the forest, but the lack of them. It was as if whatever darkness surrounded Alun Davies was spreading outwards like the ripples on a pond. Something was happening; the evil spread by Morgoth and Sauron had searched long and hard for a conduit to use and they had found it in one human being.

He sighed and silenced the excited dog with one finger. Coco's ears pricked up and his pink tongue lolled out of the side of his wide grinning mouth. The sight of it lightened the elf's heart and he laughed softly at the animal.

"Ridiculous dog." He chided and Coco whined and slobbered over his soft suede boots. "I am trying to listen and all you want to do is chase rabbits!"

Coco barked sharply. Rabbits. Now there was a word he understood perfectly. Maglor once again lifted his finger. "Hush now."

His tone was gentle, but firm and Coco finally recognised that his new bestest friend really did need him to be quiet. He whined softly once and lay down beside the now silent elf, resting his chin on his paws. Maglor smiled down at the dog and stretched his arms out to the surrounding trees and bushes. He immediately heard the agitation and distress of the trees and drew on his own inner light at the same time silently beseeching Yavanna and Orome's assistance to push away the darkness.

For for what seemed like the longest minutes of Maglor's life there was no response, although the forest hungrily drank in the light emanating from this creature of nature. Maglor felt his knees weaken and realised that he had given more of himself than he should have, but he was reluctant to stop.

Then just when he sagged to his knees and was about to give up, Coco, who was now anxiously nosing him and trying to lick the exhausted elf, gave a sharp joyous bark of what Maglor recognised as welcome. He raised his head and through the sharp prickling of the lights of exhaustion across his vision he saw a tall figure wearing a hooded cloak. Tears glistened on his cheeks when the figure threw back the hood to reveal Yavanna herself smiling at him tenderly.

"You came..." He whispered and would have fallen forward had strong arms not caught him from behind. "My Lord Orome..."

"Did you think we would not answer your call for succour child?" Orome's brown eyes, shot through with the green of the forests he loved so dearly, twinkled merrily at Maglor.

Maglor drooped in relief against the Vala. "I wasn't sure. I don't have the best track record with the Valar."

Orome's laughter boomed out heartily and the darkness withdrew cautiously as if afraid of this new and powerful sound. He gently stood Maglor on his feet and bent down to scratch Coco's ears. Yavanna looked sorrowfully around her at the drooping and fearful forest.

"So much fear and sorrow." She said softly, stroking the bark of the nearest tree which shivered ecstatically under the caress.

"Can you help the forest?" Maglor asked with a note of pleading in his voice.

Yavanna's musical laugh was accompanied by the rustling of leaves. "_Together_ we will help the forest Pitya. Orome and your little friend here..." She indicated the dog. "...will protect us while we work."

Coco sat up straight and barked again. He was ready for anything, especially since he could sense the hesitant and wary return of the small animals of the forest who recognised that powerful beings sympathetic to their plight had come to their home to aid them.

A group of hikers who had been preparing to go on a walk through the trees but were on the point of changing their mind because the forest seemed darker, unfriendly and more impenetrable than it had a few hours previously, caught sight of a growing golden light to the north of where they were planning to enter. Their leader frowned and then dismissed it as late rays of the sun peeping through the clouds rather than anything celestial.

"Perhaps we should head north." He said. "Looks like the best of the sun is that way."

They resolutely turned their backs on the dark silence and took the path north as the light from beings not seen in the forests of Middle-earth for millennia pervaded the Forest of Dean and brought it back to life.

A short distance away from where Maglor, Coco and the two Vala stood, Alun Davies lay on the couch in his living room resting. It seemed to him as if that was all he was capable these days because the exhaustion was all encompassing. His wife watched over him anxiously with half an eye on the television in the corner, but as a pure beam of golden light thrust like a spear of pure sunlight through the living room window and played across him, he turned restlessly towards it and sighed deeply.

She got up to try and soothe him, but stopped when she saw him smile in his sleep as the room lit up like a beacon. She suddenly felt an overwhelming need to rest, sat back down heavily in her chair and her eyelids drooped. A moment later they were both deep in peaceful and healing sleep.

The television murmured quietly to itself in the corner.

ooOoo

Kim was dreaming about Eonwe. There was nothing unusual in this, she dreamt about him nearly every night, some dreams were good but mostly they were frustrating. She often dreamt that she was trying to call him in the Officer's Mess, but when she went to dial the number her fingers stubbornly refused to press the right numbers. She would start dialling and then realise that she either couldn't remember the rest of the number or her fingers would turn into fat, obstinate digits apparently with minds of their own.

Or she was often running down long carpeted corridors looking for his room and would end up in her old room in the Sergeant's Mess instead. She had worked it out in her own mind that it was simply because he was out of reach that she was dreaming these frustrating events. It was because she couldn't just lift up a phone and call him, just to hear his warm rich tones reassuring her that she dreamed of being too stupid and clumsy to make something as simple as a telephone call.

When these dreams came, and they often came thick and fast, often contuining even after waking up after one of them, she woke up hot, sweaty and tearful. The weight of the baby pressing on her bladder meant that trips to the toilet became more and more frequent and just lately the baby had taken to rolling around lazily in her womb. She would lie on her back and watch the mound of flesh which was her swollen abdomen literally roll like waves until she actually felt dizzy and seasick with it. The doctor assured her that it was normal and there was nothing to worry about, so she tried not to worry, but her nights were seldom peaceful now.

She was often so tired that she fell asleep in the middle of conversations. The last time she had done it was at Chief's house and to her intense embarrassment the whole family had tiptoed around her while she slumbered. Chief hastily assured her that there was no drooling but she wasn't convinced.

"You mustn't worry so." Chief Knowles' wife tried to reassured her. "_Everyone_ feels like that towards the end. I used to wish like hell that I could take the bump off and put it on a chair for a few hours. The baby will settle down once the head is engaged."

Kim had dutifully laughed but was not convinced, but what had followed was the many pre-birth tales teasingly shared by both Chief and Mrs Knowles which were meant to make her laugh, but actually filled her with fear.

How was she to cope when the baby came? She felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with a baby and her misery at not seeing Eonwe or having him there to help and support her was growing exponentially.

She had put Gary/Eonwe's penthouse on the market and then suffered terrible guilt for doing so without his approval, which she then justified to herself by saying that he wasn't there and she had no guarantee he would _ever_ be there. Unfortunately that was hardly very reassuring for her state of mind. She bounced from emotion to emotion, up and down in mood and although being assured that mood swings were common with pregnant women, she also felt extremely annoyed with herself for giving in to them. It was only Chief's firm assertion that Eonwe's presence would have made no difference whatsoever to her moods other than put him in the doghouse permanently that lightened her depression.

However the penthouse _had_ sold, even though the housing market was quite bad and the Chief and his wife had sat down with her to look for a nice family home. The General had been very good to her also and had invited her to functions as the wife of Major Matthews and he and his wife, Mrs Colonel, had protected her from the mutterings of the other officer's ladies by their apparent public approval of her.

So after all the dust had settled she had now moved into a nice large family house just outside of Guildford and close enough to Headquarters Aldershot where the General had hinted that Eonwe would be posted to if and when he returned. All it needed was one errant husband, who would understand that his lack of presence may make him public enemy number one for a little while.

She was a lucky girl, she knew that. She had a home, good friends and enough money to live well without working. However the one most important thing to her and the baby was the one thing that was missing from her life.

Eonwe wasn't there.

She was finding it hard to get her head around why he wasn't there. She had no idea that his memories had been removed and were only now being allowed to filter back. Somehow, inside that muddled head of hers, she had decided that he simply didn't want either her or the baby and had just gone back to his life in Valinor without a second thought for either of them. She alternated between distress and misery and anger at him.

For his part Chief Knowles knew how she was feeling and also felt angry with Eonwe, although he suspected that the Valar would have done _something_ to prevent the Herald from eating his heart out for millennia while the human race scrabbled up to the level they were at now. However Kim was in no mood or emotional state to listen to anything like that. The good thing was that now Chief was driving to Kim's new home with some uplifting news, and that uplifting piece of news had taken the form of a tall, slender red-haired elf sitting calmly in the passenger seat of Chief's car apparently quite at home in a vehicle which moved without the use of horses.

"Will Lady Kim be pleased to see me do you think?"

The sudden question after miles of silent driving along a motorway startled the Chief, who glanced at his passenger. "I think she'll be very pleased to be honest. I'm glad you were able to be spared from assisting Alun Davies." Chief replied honestly.

Maedhros nodded and said nothing for a little while. He merely glanced out of the window at the streets, houses and shops flashing by through the car window. They had turned away from what Chief referred to as a 'motorway' and onto suburban roads, something Maedhros found a lot more interesting. He liked to watch the mortals going about their business, children in strollers or coming back from school. He didn't like the built up, claustrophobic feeling of modern living, but he could appreciate the fact that nobody seemed in want or hungry.

In his few weeks in modern Middle-earth, he had become accustomed to the many restaurants, food outlets and fast food joints that pervaded modern society. Alun's son and Maglor had even taken him to something called Pizza Hut and ordered a pizza for him. When he asked Maglor to explain what a pizza was, his brother had just laughed and told him to wait until he had tasted it. Poor Maedhros was completely unsure of himself and no more so than he was after being presented with a large, flat, round piece of bread, suffused with a rich red savoury sauce, drooling with cheese and dotted with pepperoni and onion.

Alun's son and Maglor watched with glee as Maedhros lifted a wide slice of the pizza and tentatively tasted it by nibbling a small piece off the corner. They fell about laughing when he proceeded to stuff the delicious foodstuff into his mouth and became frustrated with the long elastic strings of cheese.

"We could have made this back in the early days." He had mumbled enthusiastically around a mouth filled with pizza.

Maglor had chuckled. "Yes, if we had ever managed to find tomatoes and mozzarella cheese _somewhere_ in Middle-earth."

"True." Maedhros admitted. "The Secondborn have created some wondrous things and have come far yet despite all of this plenty and ease of living, there are still people in poverty and hunger. None of it seems aimed at curing any of that."

Maglor had nodded soberly. "Yes, there is great poverty and need, but there is also great ignorance and those who have do not always wish to be reminded of those who do not have. It creates great inequalities. Those who do care often do not have the wealth to help others and so it is easier to ignore them. It is not a good excuse, but evil has been set in the world since the beginning and it still works its ill magic in Middle-earth. If ever a place needed someone like Lord Eonwe to come and spread his light, this does."

Chief had turned the car into a long leafy lane. Maedhros noticed that the houses on this road were set further back than in the more built up areas. They had high fences and hedges with gates set in them and long driveways up to large houses. Dusk was beginning to fall and some of the windows glowed with welcoming lights.

Finally Chief pulled up outside a pair of large wooden gates set in a low brick wall which was topped with neat evergreen hedging. Maedhros jumped out and unhinged the lock to pull the gates back so that Chief could drive in. In front of them stretched a curving red paved driveway which wound in between tall trees and bushes. Maedhros could see that there was a wide green swathe of smooth lawn through the trees and an old red Mini stood outside a double garage alongside a silver grey Range Rover.

The Chief parked his Volvo behind the Range Rover and he and Maedhros made their way to the front door. On one side of the door Maedhros could see that there were two large glass doors behind which was obviously a very comfortable looking living room. He could also see figures inside, but not well enough to see who they were.

Chief reached out to press the bell, but before his finger even touched it, the door flew open and a delighted Kim rushed out and flung herself into the arms of a rather startled Maedhros.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it. I just can't _believe_ it! It's so wonderful to see you." She gasped. Her face was glowing and Maedhros held her at arm's length to examine her.

"You are _huge_." He said smiling. "Are you sure there is only one child in there?" He gently prodded her swollen belly and laughed softly when the child gently kicked back at him.

Kim glanced down at her abdomen and patted it fondly. "As far as we know, there's only one, but she is going to be an all in wrestler...or maybe a kick-boxer." She turned to Chief who embraced her warmly. "I am _so_ pleased to see you both, but you will _never_ guess what has happened! Come and see."

She dragged them both into the house by the hand and across the hallway into the living room area.

"She doesn't seem very surprised to see me." Maedhros whispered to the Chief who frowned in bewilderment and shook his head in surprise.

They allowed themselves to be dragged into a warm well appointed and comfortably furnished room which ran the entire length of the house from front to back. In the middle was a large fireplace which was currently alight with burning pine logs and the scent from the resin filled the room with a glorious forest fresh smell.

It was only when they were properly in the room that the Chief realised that it had two other occupants. Sitting on one of the chairs, with one leg crossed over the other was a tall man with ebony hued hair and dark twinkling eyes. A man that both Chief and Maedhros instantly recognised. Lord Namo, looking relaxed and entirely at home in these most modern of circumstances, inclined his head to them in greeting.

But there was another tall and _very_ familiar figure who was standing with his back to the door facing the dark haired man. He turned as they entered and Kim stood beside Chief and Maedhros, grinning from ear to ear at both as they stared in shock. The Chief was the first to recover.

"Well it's about bloody time, you fucking waste of space." He grasped Eonwe's hand warmly and the Herald returned his greeting with a warm strong grip of his own. "Where the_ hell _have you been. I've been wearing myself out to a frazzle filling in for you! It's been like having two wives. I'm too old and tired to have two wives."

Namo chuckled loudly and Eonwe grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Chief, and by the way that would be 'fucking waste of space, Colonel, Sir', to you! I hear she's been giving you no end of trouble." He held his arm out to Kim who came into it and laid her head against him.

"Hmm, Colonel is it?" Chief pumped his arm once again. "Congratulations. You're the only soldier I know who can be absent from duty for months and ends up being promoted two rungs up the ladder."

Eonwe just laughed and dropped a tender kiss on the top of Kim's head. "Well some of us just have the talent and the charm, Chief. What can I say?"

Chief just shook his head in mock despair and went over to shake hands with Namo.

Maedhros stood uncertainly in the doorway, unsure of his welcome from either Eonwe or Namo. However the Herald beckoned him into the room and let go of Kim long enough to enfold Maedhros in a warm embrace.

"Welcome to our home Lord Maedhros." He said softly.

"Just plain Maedhros now. I came to help." Maedhros grinned at him. "But I see there was no need."

Eonwe gestured them both to sit. "Quite the contrary, I have _great _need of both you _and _your brother. We have a great deal of work to do here. Lord Namo is here to set the seal on our presence here and we have the General's blessing and support. Others have also agreed to return and offer their light and assistance. And, more importantly, _I_ am here to welcome my daughter into the world."

"Flora-dora." Namo interposed with a sly wink at the Chief and Maedhros who laughed.

Kim blushed, waggled a finger at him in admonition and sat down heavily on the sofa opposite. "_You_ said you weren't going to tease me about that."

Namo shrugged. "I think it's a _lovely _name." He said wickedly.

"Well don't hold your breath, because there is _not _going to be a Maia, half Maia or not, called Flora-dora any time soon." Eonwe said firmly, which only made them all laugh harder.

"Well you'd better think of a name quickly." Said Kim quietly, her face suddenly pale. "Because I think she's going to make an appearance tonight."

ooOoo


	66. From the Ashes An Interlude

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

**Author Note: **Many apologies for the long intervals in this story, but I currently have Bell's Palsy and the left side of my face is paralyzed. Using the computer can be painful because I can't completely close my left eye or blink and looking at the computer screen for too long makes my eye water badly. I need to pen these last couple of chapters carefully because they will set the scene for the sequel.

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you."

**FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE, **_**Beyond Good and Evil**_

**Chapter 66 – From the Ashes – An Interlude**

"He will see you now."

The grey-suited businessman seated on the plush black couch in the minimalistic styled reception area jumped up to his feet abruptly. His briefcase slid to the floor shedding paper like leaves in Autumn. A fountain pen rolled slowly and majestically along the shining black floor tiles and landed gently with a bump against the equally shining black shoes of the assistant who stared down at the object, but made no attempt to retrieve it and hand it back to its owner. Instead he waited with barely concealed contempt and impatience as the visitor scrabbled frantically around the floor picking up the papers.

When the businessman finally reached the immaculately shining shoes, he looked up and immediately froze. The gaze that met his was almost reptilian in its expression, if expression was a word that could be used. For the first time the businessman noticed what an odd looking chap he was, with slightly coarsened features, sallow almost greenish skin with broad cheekbones and a thin wide mouth. His hair was black and slicked back from his face in a thin ponytail. His build was tall and powerful, yet with arms that were slightly longer than usual in a human. But it was the eyes that drew him; black, emotionless and staring down at him with a most disturbing intentness.

The businessman reached out to pick up the pen and in doing so offered a wide expanse of exposed neck to the assistant whose eyes showed expression for the first time and if the businessman would have been looking upwards still, he would have seen the pointed tip of a red tongue brush lightly across that thin virtually lipless mouth as though in anticipation of a meal.

The businessman got to his feet, but as he did so, he caught the almost lasciviously expectant expression on the assistant's face. He shivered with a sudden chill and drew back slightly as the assistant smiled widely at him showing yellowish slightly pointed teeth. However, apart from the fact that he could have done with a teeth whitening programme and perhaps a floss or two, the smile did not reach his eyes by a long chalk and the businessman was not reassured by it at all. Not for the first time did he question the wisdom of doing business with these people. Yet they offered much in return for the designs for new weaponry and the board of his company had decided that the price offered was well worth slipping into bed with them.

"Sorry." He stuttered while loosely shuffling the scattered papers into some order. He slipped the pen into an inside pocket and patted it. "Gift from the little woman. Wouldn't like to upset her by losing it."

He knew he was babbling and so did the assistant. That wide thin mouth pushed back into that disturbing crescent of sharp yellow teeth again and when he finally spoke it took all of the businessman's strength not to reel back under the onslaught of halitosis the like of which he had rarely experienced in this modern day of orthodontists, dentists, mouth hygiene and mouthwash.

"This way."

He walked to the two rather large doors made of some black opague material, in the centre of which were two very sizable bronze oval door handles. As he and the businessman approached the doors they slid open soundlessly as if at some silent command or remote mechanism and a room was revealed beyond. The minimalistic theme of the reception area was carried on into the room which was decorated in dark colours and had large plate glass tinted windows all around affording a viewer an almost 360 degree view of the city stretched far below. For this was the top floor and penthouse of the towering building which dominated part of the Manhattan skyline.

The middle of the room was sunken lower than the periphery. It held one chair only made from some kind of dark leather which was placed on one side of an open fireplace designed to look like an old style brazier. The glowing red of the coals in the brazier showed the only colour. The rest of the room was unfurnished and its only occupant was a tall dark figure with long pale hair who stood with his back to the door.

The businessman hesitated at the top of the steps leading down to the chair.

"Enter and be welcome." The figure did not turn, but remained with his hands clasped lightly behind his back staring out at the plethora of modern office blocks and apartment blocks jostling along with old Brownstones. "Please be seated if you will."

It struck the businessman that the figure's manner of speech sounded quite archaic and stilted and his voice seemed dry and rusty, almost as if he had not used speech for a very long time.

The businessman decided to bring a note of cheerfulness into the stark room. "Many thanks, I don't mind if I do. It's been a busy day so far, good to get off my feet."

His hearty tones disappeared into the deep silence of the room as if they were mere pebbles dropped into a bottomless well and he sat down abruptly simply because his legs felt as though they would no longer hold him up.

"Indeed." The rusty tones held a tinge of amused boredom in them. "Perhaps I can offer you some... refreshment to raise your energy levels? Some wine perhaps?"

The assistant appeared in the room as if summoned by magic. The figure turned slightly. "Some wine for our guest."

The assistant bowed, the door opened and he slipped out. The businessman was so busy craning his neck around to see by what mechanism the doors opened and closed so quietly that he did not see that the dark figure had now turned fully to face him. Perhaps if he had he might have made some excuse and ran out through the doors which were now sliding shut.

Instead he gave up straining his neck, turned and drew his breath in with a hiss. For now facing him was the most disturbing looking man he had ever seen.

The erstwhile CEO of Angband Enterprises stood well over six foot tall, in fact the businessman would have put him at nearer seven foot possibly even taller, but that was not the most disturbing aspect of him. He was quite thin, to the point of being cadaverous, with pale, thin and paper like skin covering his facial bones. His hair was not white as at first thought, but more of a silvery colour and hung lankly in curtains on either side of his face. His eyes were so deeply socketed as to at first appear like black holes, but the businessman could see a glittering, but fell, light deep inside which spoke of _some_ kind of expression of life in that corpse like face. The mouth was thin and rather cruel and his hands, which like the face were the only parts of his flesh on show, were long and also very white with long skeletal fingers.

The businessman felt his inner child whimper with a primal fear, but of what he could not be sure. After all, this was a business meeting with the CEO of a very prestigious and wealthy Fortune 500 company smack bang in a state of the art modern office building. Outside people walked, laughed, ate, shopped and went bustling about their business. Somewhere down there law enforcement officers patrolled on foot, horseback and in cars and were only a speed dial away.

What on earth did he have to be so afraid of? He tried to bolster up his flagging courage with a hearty smile.

"Wine would be wonderful." He felt his lips form the words and heard them echo hollowly around the room. "Yes indeedy."

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a large handkerchief and mopped his brow with it.

The CEO's face turned out a rictus of a smile and the businessman's last thimbleful of courage fled him. He sank further down into the leather chair which seemed to grasp onto him as if it was going to actually devour him. From somewhere far away he heard the flat footfalls of the CEO's assistant, yet still he nearly jumped out of his skin when the creature, for that was what it seemed like to him, bent over him and with a further blast of that hideous foetid breath, offered him what looked like a goblet filled with blood, or so it seemed to the terrified man. He took it with trembling hands and some of the wine slopped onto the immaculate tiling.

"Oh...oh." Panic stricken, he tried to get out of the chair, but only seemed to sink further down. "I am so sorry, I..."

But he got no further, at a gesture from the CEO, the assistant was at his side. He bent down and wiped up the droplets with a cloth produced from his jacket pocket.

"Think nothing of it Mr Sawyer." The rusty tones seemed smoother than they had before. "My assistant will clean it up."

And indeed he did, but as he straightened from wiping the floor his gaze met Sawyer's and the man quailed at the malevolence in it.

That rictus smile appeared once again and Sawyer felt distinctly unwell. "Now, shall we get down to business?"

ooOoo


	67. Birth of Hope in a Darkening World

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

**Author Note: **Many apologies for the long intervals in this story, but I currently have Bell's Palsy and the left side of my face is paralyzed. Using the computer can be painful because I can't completely close my left eye or blink and looking at the computer screen for too long makes my eye water badly. I will update whenever my eye feels able to stand the screen. It's been pretty good today! There will now only be an Epilogue and then this part of Kim and Eonwe's story will be complete.

**NOTE**: Just to avoid any confusion, I should also like to point out that Eonwe and Kim's daughter has a slightly different status in Valinor than the Peredhil or Halfelven, i.e. Elrond and his sons. Eonwe is not one of the Eldar, he is a Maia and Kim is human. Their child has no Elven blood in her, whereas Elrond and his children do, hence the term _Peredhil _which applied specifically to them. Kim actually shares the same fate as Tuor, a mortal warrior who sailed to Valinor with Idril, bypassing the Ban of the Valar and lives there still counted among the Eldar. In a letter Tolkien indicated that Tuor's "conversion" was allowed by Eru Iluvator as a unique exception, just like Luthien's assumption of a mortal fate. I have borrowed that fate for Kim (all due respect given to Tolkien of course).

"To know the way ahead, ask those coming back."

**Chinese proverb **

**Chapter 67 – Birth of Hope in a Darkening World**

"She threw me out."

Eonwe slumped down disconsolately in the chair opposite Maedhros, who was leafing through a magazine, and the Chief who was lounging as much as one could in an uncomfortable NHS generic waiting room chair with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. There was no sign of Namo.

Maedhros lowered the magazine and raised one sculpted red eyebrow. "_Kim_ threw you out?"

Eonwe pursed his lips and shot a dark look at the closed door of the delivery room. "No. That...that _woman, _the midwife, threw me out." His tone suggested outrage that a Maia of his standing could be thrown out of the room by a mortal woman when his wife was about to deliver their child

Chief chuckled. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." There was more than a hint of defensiveness in the Herald's aggrieved voice. "She was examining Kim, I asked if I could do anything and..." He took another deep outraged breath. "..._that woman_ asked me if I didn't think that maybe I had done enough!"

Maedhros and Chief exchanged one look and then both burst into gales of laughter, much to Eonwe's chagrin and disgruntlement.

"What did Lady Kim say?" Maedhros asked once his laughter was under control a little.

Eonwe's expression was pure bewilderment. "She laughed and agreed that I had done more than enough."

An answer which, of course, merely sent the other two off into further howls of laughter, to such a degree that a midwife bustling on her way to another patient frowned deeply at them.

Curbing his laughter with much difficulty, Chief got up, slotted a coin into the drink vending machine and took out a plastic cup of tea which he offered to Eonwe.

"Never mind." He consoled the miserable Herald sagely. "Just wait until she is actually giving birth and grasps you by the front of your shirt while telling you that if you touch her _ever_ again she will rip the still beating heart out of your body."

Maedhros buried his head in the magazine but the others could clearly see it shaking.

Eonwe looked horrified. "Why would she say anything so terrible?"

"Oh believe me, women say much worse during the bearing down part, usually aimed at the one person they feel is responsible for their current predicament." Chief grinned widely at Eonwe. "In this case, that would be you."

"It took _both_ of us." Eonwe protested. He took a sip of the tea and grimaced. "_Gah._..this is _horrible._ What is it?"

Chief chuckled. "I believe it's meant to be tea, take a deep breath and swallow. Believe me, that's pure nectar compared to the stuff that comes out of the cook house or mess tea urns that they send out for field training. Now _that_ stuff is foul, always tastes like vegetable soup, but when you've been out on the ranges all day and doing section attacks, even that is welcome when you've a thirst on you."

Eonwe went silent as he dredged up another of his memories from being Gary. He pulled a face. "You're right. I had forgotten about that. I hoped that as a Colonel I would be spared such British Army torments."

"Colonels have to train, just like the men." Chief replied with relish.

The Herald sighed and got up to look out of the window. The place was very busy; patients, hospital staff and visitors bustled backwards and forwards. Ambulances and vehicles of all kinds came and went, disgorging patients and picking others up. Maedhros continued calmly reading his magazine as though it was the most fascinating thing in the entire world and the Chief went back to his former relaxed stance on the chair. Eonwe envied them their composure. This had to be the most nerve-wracking thing he had ever been through. At that moment in time he would have rather gone and fought a second War of Wrath than sit here waiting for his baby to make an appearance.

After a few moments, the door to Kim's room opened and the midwife peeped out. "Colonel Matthews?"

It took Eonwe a few seconds to register that she meant him. He turned anxiously and took a step towards the woman. "Is everything all right?"

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Of course. I just needed to settle your wife in and do an examination. She's about two centimeters dilated, so it might be a little while yet, but you can go in now. Normally we only like two people in at a time, but I see no reason why your friends can't go in along with you and distract her for the time being."

She held the door open and Eonwe eagerly entered followed by the Chief and Maedhros who was still carrying the magazine. The midwife stared at the red-headed Elf with his beautiful features and long shining hair and he winked at her as he entered the room causing her to blush fiercely.

"I'll be back in about twenty minutes, use the call button if you need someone to come in the meantime." She said hastily.

Kim was propped up on lots of pillows and looked pale and strained but she managed a smile for the midwife. "I will Sue. Thanks very much."

The woman smiled and shut the door.

"Sue?" Eonwe bent over Kim and kissed her. "You know her?"

Kim rolled her eyes heavenward. "Of course not, we only just met, but since she's been rummaging around down there I reckoned we probably should be on first name terms."

Maedhros let out a peel of silvery laughter but buried his head in the magazine again when the Herald shot him a dark look. Chief had settled himself in the chair on the other side of the bed.

"Where did Lord Namo go?" Kim enquired after glancing around the room and finding him absent.

The Doomsman of the Valar immediately appeared at the bottom of the bed making the Chief start slightly.

"He went nowhere." Namo said cheerfully. "Well... I did sort of go back to speak to the others. They are discussing which of them would be appropriate to be present when the child is actually born. I _have _to be here to proclaim her doom, as she is of course half mortal, half Maia, but Varda and Yavanna each want to give their blessings. Personally I think it should be Este but..." He shrugged. "...as usual nobody can agree."

"Her doom?" Kim's eyes opened as wide as saucers and she clutched at Eonwe convulsively. "What does that mean? It sounds dreadful."

Eonwe hastily sought to reassure her. "It doesn't mean doom in the sense you are taking it sweetheart. Lord Namo just means that her future, as decided by Eru, will be spoken here, at the very moment of her birth. When Luthien was born of elf and Maia it was not thought important since she would have been bound to Arda until the end anyway through both kindreds. Instead she chose to be counted among the Secondborn and moved beyond the Circles of the World with her mortal husband Beren. She _chose_ a mortal life. Our daughter is a different matter being born of mortal woman and immortal Maia. When she is born Lord Namo will speak the words as relayed to him by Eru and she will be bound to that fate."

If anything Kim looked even more worried and Eonwe shot a glance at Namo as if to say 'a little help here?'.

Namo smiled at Kim and stepped up to the plate. "All is well Kim, you must not worry so. Your daughter will be born healthy and will live a long life, I am sure. However my proclamation will involve both her and yourself once she makes an appearance."

Kim opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by the sudden onslaught of a contraction. Instead she moaned and made a strange grunting noise.

"I need to sit up." She said desperately, struggling into sitting position.

Eonwe, his face a mask of concern, helped her up and propped the pillows up behind her while she tensed as the contraction coursed through her and caused beads of sweat to pop out on her brow. Chief went to the sink and rinsed out a facecloth with which he proceeded to gently wipe her face. She grunted her thanks in between stabs of pain. Namo stayed where he was at the bottom of the bed, but Maedhros stood up, finally relinquishing the fabulous world of the modern celebrity.

He bent over Kim with his hand outstretched over her swollen belly.

"May I?" He asked softly and she nodded. He gently ran his hand over the mound of her belly and stood quietly for a second, then he nodded. "She is coming very soon. You may wish to use that call button."

Eonwe pressed the bell and a few moments later the midwife, Sue, bustled into the room. She took one look at Kim who was red in the face from trying not to give in and push and immediately lifted the covers up.

"Oh my goodness, this one is in a hurry." She beamed at Kim. "The husband can stay but you others should go."

Maedhros and Chief, who handed Eonwe the damp cloth, left the room with alacrity, but, unseen by the midwife, Namo merely disincarnated himself and stood quietly in a dark corner as the she prepared Kim for the actual birth, he was joined a moment later by Varda, Yavanna and Este, although nobody but Eonwe was aware of any of them.

A couple of minutes later Sue was joined by another midwife who began to check that the scales were prepared and the examination table for the paediatrician was in order for when he came to check the baby over.

Kim clutched at Eonwe again and moaned. "I need to push, I really do." She stared fearfully at the midwife who finished her examination and smiled at her.

"Fully dilated my dear, you can push if you need to. Push when the contraction begins." She settled herself down at the bottom of the bed.

Kim groaned in relief and Eonwe grimaced in pain as her nails dug forcibly into his forearm.

The midwife grinned up at him. "_Now _you can be useful." She said cheerfully.

ooOoo

Hours later, Kim lay quietly with only the bedside lamp on in her room. The whole room was still filled with the light that had filled it with the presence of the four Valar and there were so many flowers. At the bottom of her bed stood a cot with a bundle in it, a bundle that sneezed delightfully every few minutes. Kim could just see the top of the baby's head with its pale gold tufts of hair.

_My baby, my little girl...our daughter_. She thought happily. The baby snuffled a little and Kim sank down into the sheets. She was feeling drowsy now, the baby had taken her first feed so she could sleep. She sighed contentedly and eventually slid into the Path of Dreams completely unaware that silent sentinels now stood unmoving in the room, sharp eyes and minds piercing the gloom of night in a modern hospital. The darkness surrounding the hospital and which cloaked itself in night saw that it could not come closer and withdrew further into more welcoming shadows.

ooOoo

Eonwe had to be forcibly dragged away from his wife and child and only finally went because the Lady Este scolded him and said that Kim and their child needed now to sleep and recover from the birth and so did he. Chief and Maedhros drove the reluctant Herald back to his new home where Maedhros was instructed by the Chief to get some take out food. Armed with the delightful newness and exceeding richness of Eonwe's credit card, he opted for pizza and an intrigued Lord Namo decided to stay and eat once he saw the large flat boxes being delivered.

Chief chuckled when he saw the pizza. "Maedhros, you might eventually be responsible for the first Pizza Hut franchise in Valinor."

"Not Pizza Hut." Maedhros mumbled around a huge slice of pizza topped with every meat under the sun. "It's Domino's Pizza."

Namo picked up his slice which immediately drooped. The cheese slid towards the edge and hovered precipitously, threatening to fall off. He shoved that part in his mouth, only to find that another large gloop of cheese threatened to fall off the other end.

"How does one eat it all before it escapes?" He queried.

Chief grinned at him. "Ah, well, you can either have it on a plate with a knife and fork, or cut it into smaller pieces which spoils the whole experience really, or..." He leaned over with his own slice. "...you can do this."

He picked the slice up after folding the two long outer edges so that it looked like a sort of funnel and started to eat from one end, the roll stopped the cheese and topping from rolling off the ends.

Namo frowned and did the same with his slice. It took a couple of seconds, but finally he got the hang of it.

"Don't you want any pizza Eonwe?" Chief looked over to where the tall Herald was standing at the front windows and looking out over the dark garden.

Eonwe shook his head. "I feel uneasy. I should not have left her."

Namo put his plate down, arose and went over to the Herald. He put his hand on Eonwe's shoulder. "I know what it is that you fear child, for I can feel it too. However your wife and child are under the protection of the Valar. We wove our own protections around her room while the dark hours are with us and two of your own brethren also stand guard over them. No one shall enter the room who means them any harm."

Eonwe turned and his face was perturbed. "What is it? What threatens them? I see a creeping darkness, but nothing solid has come to me."

"We do not know." Namo said quietly. "We believe that it is a small _part_ of the darkness that surrounds the mortal Alun Davies, yet does not emanate from him. We sense that this darkness, which has its roots in the evils set into Arda so long ago, is not that which came with the mortal, although it senses the residual darkness surrounding him. We believe that this new darkness has been here all along, but only in the materialistic modern world where the lines between dark and light, good an evil are not so clearly drawn, has it been allowed to come to fruition. It is that darkness that you, your daughter and others from the West will have to fight. It will not be like the black and white battles for Middle-earth of which the War of the Ring was the last major defeat for the darkness. Instead, the very nature of modern Arda and the nature of the modern Secondborn allows it to flourish without hindrance. There are many dark places and much evil still in Arda Marred. Your battle will not be an easy one child nor will it be against one single enemy, yet we know that you and the light will prevail. The birth of your daughter heralded the coming of the light of the West to this beleaguered world. The darkness is drawn to it, yet it also greatly fears it."

Eonwe stared out at the garden again. Did the shadows look darker and a little more sinister somehow? He could not be sure. He turned to Namo. "How can I be certain they will be safe?"

"By surrounding yourself with creatures of the light, such as you are my child, and we will not be far away. The child also has the ability to turn away the darkness, for she is half Maia. As she grows so will her power grow. Until she grows, Manwe has decreed that Maia warriors will be her constant companions and guardians and in truth she has the greatest warrior here or in the West to defend her in you. Indeed the elf Maedhros, son of Feanor, would already give his life for both of them. So do not be afraid."

"And if they go after Kim? I cannot be with her every minute of every day and while I know that the warriors will guard them both, she has no powers."

Namo sighed. "No indeed and I shall say this to you. Today her doom was proclaimed at the behest of Eru Iluvator. The Gift of Men has been removed from her bloodline and she will henceforth be counted with the Doom of the Eldar as was Tuor and Earendil in their turn. Although Earendil had some claim to this being partly of the Eldar. Like the Eldar, she _can _die and if, perchance by some terrible act or fate, she _does_ die, she will come to my Halls to contemplate her life and like any other Eldalie it will depend on her as to whether she will be restored. This is all the comfort I can give you."

Eonwe raised his dark blue eyes to the Vala and Namo could see that they were tear filled. "Is this to be in her future then?"

"I know not. Her future depends very much on herself and her actions. However, your daughter will protect her mother as much as she is able and as much as Kim allows her to. Teach them both carefully Eonwe, as I know you have taught others. You will prevail and together, the three of you are strong." He smiled at the Herald and gestured to the food on the coffee table. "Now come, eat and take heart in that they are both safe from the darkness tonight whether you are there or not. And then you too must rest."

Eonwe allowed himself to be led over to the table. He helped himself to the pizza and like Namo, discovered that there was an art to eating it. Within a few minutes there was much laughter and joyful conversation filling the room.

The shadows in the garden shortened and diminished at the joyous sounds. The clouds parted themselves and revealed a clear, star filled night. The moon appeared from behind the clouds and its bright light shone down and bathed all in silvery beauty.

ooOoo


	68. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: See previous ****chapter**

**Author Note: **It's been a long journey for Eonwe, Kim and the others, but here is the chapter I often thought I wouldn't see – the Epilogue to the tale of their meeting. It is also the herald of the next portion of their story entitled **'Dark Power Arising'** which will be coming soon. As soon as I outline an arrival of new evil in Middle-earth that doesn't sound old and done to death!

"Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns may go un-rescued for a long time, but not forever; a happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story." - **Peter S Beadle **

**Chapter 68– Epilogue**

**North West coast of Wales, circa present day**

"I never thought to stand here again...for the third time."

His companion, a tall, slim young man with long dark hair loose about his shoulders glanced at him with dark eyebrows raised in query. "Yet you still volunteered." He said mildly.

"As did you, and where else would I be other than following those who I was pleased to serve here before, no matter _how_ foolhardy their quest? " Countered the other. "The Valar did say we would be met, obviously our contact has _no _sense of time whatsoever."

Erestor laughed softly. "Nay...let us rather say that those here have a much _more_ developed sense of time than those in the uttermost West."

Glorfindel grunted in reluctant assent and grinned at his companion. "I suppose so."

He glanced around at the rocky shoreline. In the gathering gloom of North Western England's autumn twilight figures could be seen unloading boxes from a small craft under the direction of a tall dark-haired elf while just at the edge of the water with the small waves lapping around her feet stood another cloaked and hooded figure, obviously female.

"What I cannot comprehend." He said thoughtfully. "Is why Elrond and Celebrian wished to come here again, to the site of many old and still raw wounds. It is _many_ millennia from the end of Elessar and Arwen's line. Surely he cannot think that he will find any of their descendants here now? You would think that he and Celebrian would have wanted to remain in peace in Valinor. I can only assume that Elladan came to keep an eye on them being the only twin who has not as yet espoused himself !"

Erestor laughed softly and shrugged. "Elladan was always a lover of the Secondborn, so I am not surprised he offered to return. Not for nothing was he named 'Elf-man' As for Elrond and Celebrian, who knows what was in their minds? Some sort of closure I imagine. The Herald was clear enough in the facts of the matter when he asked for people to come back. I do believe that Elrond felt as though he was stagnating, as did many others. Celeborn came back to Valinor but has not been the same since, I am surprised that he did not wish to come back as well."

"He did." Glorfindel grinned widely. "I think Galadriel put her foot down with a firm hand!"

Erestor snorted with laughter. "I hope the chains she bound him with are strong." He said wickely. "The Lady of Light has a strong will, but so does her Lord."

"I see bright lights moving across the dunes."

They were joined by the solid figure of Haldir, who had, in Middle-earth served Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel in the land of Laurelindorenan, or Lothlorien as it had come to be known. He had joined the venture at the request of his Lord and Lady in order to protect both their daughter Lady Celebrian and her lord.

All three turned their gaze inland, just as a pair of headlights bored their way through the gloom and lit up the immediate area in stark relief. Now, any spectators on that part of the coast, who, except for fishermen, would have been unusual at that time of year could have plainly seen the elegant lines of a silver Swan Ship. They might even have seen that the figures milling around the scenes of disembarkation emanated a faint glow.

"Friend or foe do you think?" Glorfindel said softly.

"Friend." Erestor said firmly. "I doubt that enemies would come with such a show of light!"

Haldir said nothing. He had immediately taken up a defensive stance, just in case of accidents, as had another dark haired elf, Elladan, one of the twin sons of Elrond, who joined them. The lights that all could see and were gaping at, came to a sudden stop and the sensitive nostrils of the Eldar were assailed with the very unfamiliar and astringent odour of petrol. They all took a step back as a door in the vehicle, not any kind carriage or cart they were familiar with, swung open with a sharp click and a tall figure unwound himself and his long legs from the driver's side.

Those on the shore sensed no ill will from the figure, who was bundled up in some sort of bulky dark jacket. He also wore some sort of cap and a long scarf wound many times around his neck. On his feet he wore heavy boots for the night was cold and the evening breeze from the sea was sparkling with beads of wet.

The figure stood for a moment contemplating the scene before him and a moment later was joined by another figure from another vehicle behind, who took no measures to hide his identity in muffled clothing. His only sop to the cold weather was a snug fitting black leather jacket, blue denim jeans and a pair of desert boots. His long red shining hair tumbled around his shoulders and his eyes showed a green gleam.

Elrond could not stop the gasp that escaped him.

"Maedhros." He said in a whisper and Celebrian, who had never actually met Feanor's eldest son, stared in interest as the two tall figures made their way down the sand dunes among the coarse thick clumps of grass and onto the beach. Even Galdor who had volunteered to bring his ship over on this venture at the request of King Olwe and Lord Cirdan, and his Teleri sailors stopped their unloading and came to the edge of the rail to stare at the infamous Noldor kinslayer, not seen since his theft of the Silmarils from the tent of Eonwe, Herald of Manwe after the War of Wrath.

"Halloooo the ship." A _very_ well-known voice boomed out and Maedhros' companion pulled off the cap allowing bright golden hair to bounce loose. "We can't get the vehicles any closer, so that stuff will have to be carried up them." The voice held unmistakable tones of command.

He came to a halt in front of Glorfindel, Erestor and Haldir. "What, no effusive welcome? No 'hello Thranduil, we had no idea you were still alive and kicking'?" He put a mocking hand over his heart. "_Surely_ you _cannot _have forgotten me? You wound me. Don't tell me, I bet that miserable old Sindar sod from Doriath didn't even _mention_ that I was still alive!"

Undeterred by the stunned silence that greeted him, he flung his arms around the three startled Elves and drew them into a bear hug.

Glorfindel was the first to extricate himself from being suffocated. "I might have known _you _would never fade."

He tried to sound exasperated but there was a catch in his voice and a tear in his eyes that betrayed his nonchalance.

Thranduil released the other two and beamed at them. "And of course you _do _remember Maedhros." He jerked a jumb back at the red-haired elf who was standing quietly, not willing to push himself forward in case of rejection.

Strangely enough it was Elrond, who by this time had walked up the beach, with Celebrian hovering not far behind, and who was the first to move forward in greeting. He held his arms out to Maedhros who moved wordlessly into them. They stood for a moment in an embrace.

"I did not think to be welcome and I did not think to see you here again." Maedhros said softly. "Maglor would have come, but he stays with Alun Davies and his family. You remember Alun?"

Elrond's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Of _course_ I remember him, and Kim. Are they well?"

"Quite well and looking forward to seeing you all." He hesitated. "Although Alun and his family were much affected by this growing darkness, things have much improved. We should not speak of these things here though, the Herald will explain matters when we see him. Kim and Lord Eonwe...er Gary, now have a baby daughter, she is almost three years old now."

Elrond let him go and greeted Thranduil who was standing by with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. They grasped each other by the forearms before embracing. "It is good to see you safe and alive my old friend." Elrond said softly. "And your people?"

Thranduil shrugged. "Meh...I haven't had 'people' as you call them for at least a thousand years. Some did indeed fade, not many though. I sent the rest across the straight road. Mostly I have wandered Middle-earth by myself, but for the last few hundred years I have had no contact with those of our kind except for Maglor who also stubbornly resisted sailing, for more obvious reasons of course and in more recent times Maedhros." His look turned from bored nonchalance to slightly pleading. "My son? I did not think he would come here of course, the sea-longing became too strong and overtook him at the end. He struggled to withstand it and managed until the departure of the Undomiel for Cerin Amroth. But he is well?"

Celebrian's voice broke in and Thranduil turned to envelop her in another bear hug. "He is well and I have many missives from him. " She returned the hug with a fierce one of her own. "And this is just the first of many hugs that he and his wife and family send to you."

Thranduil's eyes grew misty. "Wife and family is it? Well I never. Then I completely understand why he is not here."

Celebrian chuckled. "You have two fine grandsons and a granddaughter and they are married with children and grandchildren in their turn. Legolas wanted to come, but pressing family responsibilities now stop him from gadding about. Or so he said." Her eyes held laughter.

"It didn't stop either of you!" Thranduil's eyes twinkled merrily. "But then your reasons for returning are a little more personal I suspect."

The expression in her silvery blue eyes suddenly turned hopeful. "Have you...has anyone..." She stumbled over her words and Elrond gently gripped her elbow in support.

Thranduil smiled at her. "That is a tale too long in the telling for standing around here in the mists of the Welsh coasts, so you must wait a little longer, however I will say that my news is not bad. However we must get you all up to where the Herald awaits you and before the Coastguard sight what could be construed as a vessel landing illegal immigrants. I would hate to have to explain the presence of so many elves to the arresting authorities." He lifted Celebrian's slim white hand to his lips. "But let us get you into the vehicle at least while we load up, the fog on this part of the coast can be quite chilly and you will get soaked standing here."

She managed a tremulous smile at Elrond and allowed herself to be drawn up to the sand dunes where the strange metal carriages were. The tall figure of Maedhros could already been seen directing the lifting of the baggage up the beach and into the vehicle. Elrond, Elladan, Glorfindel, Haldir and Erestor had joined him.

Celebrian was settled into the back seat of one of the vehicles while Thranduil jumped in the front and started up the engine. She shrank back with trepidation into the plush leather seats as the vehicle purred into action as if by some kind of sorcery.

Thranduil threw her a grin over his shoulder. "Let's just get some heat on." He fiddled with some strange dials in the front and the next thing the radio blared into action on a classical music channel, currently playing a nice piece by Chopin, and a welcome blast of heat filled the interior. "Want me to leave the radio on?" He asked cheerily.

She leant forward in puzzlement. "Where..." She cleared her throat nervously. "Where are the minstrels who play this music? It is quite lovely."

Thranduil chuckled. "It's something the mortals call a recording. There aren't really little minstrels hiding in the dashboard. It's a radio, music that is broadcast all over the country. Many people in mortal homes all over this kingdom will be listening to this at the same time that we are listening. The piece is by a mortal composer called Frederic Chopin, Etude Opus. 10, No. 2 I believe. Lovely piece, one of my personal favourites. You just stay here in the warm and listen, take a nap even while we sort out the luggage. We can be on our way then."

He jumped out of the vehicle and shut the door with a snap, leaving Celebrian to sink back in the seat and let the warmth and the music flow over her. For the first time in days she felt relaxed and as if the decision she and Elrond had made to come in person and try to find any descendants of the line of Elessar Telcontar and Arwen Undomiel was not some sort of lunatic venture as many back on Valinor had declared.

The assorted elves who were staying on in modern Middle-earth stood quietly on the shoreline watching as the tall silver ship glided away from them, ghostly and elegant. They watched until she was swallowed up in the fine mist. Moments later, with Thranduil expertly driving one Range Rover and Maedhros the other, they were heading for the Welsh North coast road which would eventually meet up with the M62 and onwards to where their new home and new destinies awaited them.

~ FIN ~

ooOoo

**Note: Sequel to A Singular Honour, called Dark Power Arising soon to come.**


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